


Life's Chapters

by Sarcasticles



Category: One Piece
Genre: ABCs, Baroqueworks!Robin, Gen, Kid!Robin, One Shot Collection, Strawhat!Robin, Timeskip!Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcasticles/pseuds/Sarcasticles
Summary: A group of one shots featuring Nico Robin. T blanket, individual rating will vary, no romance. Chapter 11:Robin learned the hard way that it was kill or be killed. There was no middle ground when the whole world wanted you dead.





	1. Nico Robin and the Temple of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uncharted island, a lost history, and the secret to finding the Alabastian poneglyph

Nico Robin stepped off of the Baroque Works boat and onto the small, uninhabited island that supposedly held a clue regarding the Void Century. The rocky little outcropping was off the coast of Alabasta, and seemed to be more of an extension of the main island rather than one in its own right. Despite having a unique magnetic field, it did not have its own name, but was considered part of the Sandy Island (and by extension the Kingdom of Alabasta). However, the land was barren and uninhabited, considered cursed by the citizens of the country. 

To her right, Crocodile surveyed the land with a displeased expression on his face. The Warlord had made it perfectly clear that he wanted to get this so-called excursion done with as quickly as possible. There was important business back on the mainland that would not attend to itself. Robin suspected that the only reason he came at all was to discourage her from running away after gaining valuable information.

"This way," Crocodile growled. Robin followed silently, discreetly staying out of range from his hooked hand. Not that it would help if he really wanted to kill her, but it was always wise to take precautions. Since entering a partnership with one of the most dangerous men in the world, Robin had yet to come up with a way to circumvent his impenetrable defense. It was cause for worry, but she had little choice in the matter. Working with Crocodile was preferable to being handed over to the marines or killed.

They had not been walking long before the ruins came into sight. Robin's heart rate increased and the barest hint of a smile graced her lips. The last clue she needed to find the Rio Poneglyph might be found in this little village. This was her element, what she was born to do. If there was anything of historical significance here she would find it. If there wasn't anything of note, well, then it would be the quickest partnership she had ever been in.

"My source tells me that these were the holy grounds of some obscure cult of the old Alabastian religion," Crocodile said, "something about Preserving Fathers."

"I am familiar with them. They were a monasteric sect built around the keeping of the old ways during a civil war hundreds of years ago. Archivers of knowledge, if you will. They were destroyed when the Kifu dynasty took power in an attempt to purge the country of anything related to the previous kings," Robin replied.

"I don't give a damn who they were. The only thing that matters is that they wrote down where the weapon is," Crocodile said dismissively.

Robin didn't argue, but a large part of her wanted to stop and lecture him about the importance of knowing from history and the arrogance of ignoring it. Again and again she wished that working with such a powerful and cruel man wasn't necessary and that the stakes in doing so were not quite so high.

They walked for another fifteen minutes in an uncomfortable silence before reaching the outskirts of the ruins. Very little was still standing, but the foundations were surprisingly well intact for structures hundreds of years old. Of course, the arid climate was well suited for preservation. Robin quietly marveled at the sight as Crocodile led her to what was once the very center of the village. There the remains of what was presumably a temple stood. It was by far the largest building in the ruin, and was easily the best preserved.

A small frown flickered across Robin's face. The intact nature of the village was very curious considering that the first two kings of the Kifu dynasty had specifically set out to destroy everything even remotely related to the Preserving Fathers. History said that the order of monks had been completely eradicated and their writings burned. Of course, no one knew better than she that history could not be trusted, but still...

"What's wrong?" Crocodile growled.

"I'm not sure yet," Robin said after a brief hesitation. To be honest, she was surprised that he even noticed her concern. Then again, one did not become one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea by lacking perception. "It's strange that there is this much left standing. I'm not sure that your source was correct about this site."

Crocodile let out a displeased sound that was suspiciously close to a snarl. Robin's senses kicked into overdrive and her fingers twitched as she anticipated an attack, but the Warlord did not move.

"We'll see about that. I know for a fact that Pluton is in Alabasta. I just don't know where it is," he said in a deep menacing voice that was famous for making lesser men run away in fear.

Robin didn't bother with an answer, but recognized the unsaid threat. It was her job to lead him to the weapon via the poneglyph, and if she didn't then he would kill her. With that happy thought she began examining the ancient temple. She was aware of Crocodile's presence behind her with every step she took, which made it very difficult to concentrate. Activating her Devil Fruit ability, she made quick work of scanning the ruins. If Crocodile was unnerved by the multitude of eyeballs that she sprouted from a variety of surfaces he didn't show it.

"Here's something," Robin said a short time later. With her enhanced vision she had seen a tablet with symbols etched into its surface. She picked her way through the blocks of stone and rubble to where it lay, taking no small satisfaction that this time _she_ was the one leading _him_.

"Is this your old writing crap?" Crocodile asked.

"No, these are Alabastian hieroglyphs. Similar, but unrelated to the poneglyphs," Robin murmured as she studied the old, worn stone.

"Can you read it?" asked Crocodile, his tone indicating that he couldn't care less about the different languages.

"With help, yes," Robin answered. Quickly sprouting some extra hands, she pulled out a reference book, a pencil, and a notebook out of her backpack that she had brought along. Then she went about the business of translating the hieroglyphs.

Crocodile waited patiently for twenty minutes before letting out an irritated grunt. Robin didn't say anything for several seconds as she put her book away, attempting to subtly tell him not to rush her. Still, she didn't test her luck for too long before answering.

"It's a warning against thieves and the persecutors of knowledge. There is an underground cavern where the brotherhood kept their most dear secrets, and any who disturb it are forever cursed."

Crocodile's eyes narrowed and he put his hand to the ground. He grimaced slightly and looked back at the tablet.

"Read to me exactly what it says," he ordered.

"The Preserving Fathers, Servants of the Highest Sun, protectors of All Things That Have Been Learned from the Forces that Destroy. Let those who enter and seek to learn the Most Precious Secrets be of pure heart and sound mind as they descend into the deeps, lest they meet eternal damnation and their souls never find rest," Robin recited.

"Is that all?" Crocodile said sarcastically.

"Well, it did rhyme in the original language," Robin said offhandedly as she put the rest of her supplies away. She pretended not to see the glare Crocodile.

"I detect an underground passage. It goes deep, and there is some sort of water source. Do you still have doubts whether this is legitimate?" he asked as he prodded different parts of the ground with his hand.

Robin considered the question. "No. I hypothesize that the Fathers sought sanctuary on this island, and their enemies were unable to find them due to this island's separate magnetic field. They must have abandoned the town later, probably due to lack of resources, or died of natural causes," Robin said as Crocodile used his power to open up a hidden passage.

"Good. Now let's find out what these most precious secrets are. After you," Crocodile said with a mocking flourish.

There were torches hanging on the wall, which Crocodile was kind enough to light. Robin sent her eyes as far ahead of her as the limited lighting would allow. She had a sneaking suspicion that descending into the depths of the temple would not be easy. The air was cool and dry, and the only living things in the tunnels were spiders and the occasional lizard. Steadily but cautiously the pair walked onward.

They soon reached an open cavern that branched off into five separate tunnels. Crocodile chewed on his cigar in annoyance as Robin carefully examined the room.

"Well?" he spat after she finished.

"There is no indication which tunnel is the correct one, and it is too dark for me to look down with my power. Did your source give any directions?"

"No he did not. I may have to have a word with him when we get back to Alabasta," he said.

By mutual agreement the two criminals choose the right-most path. Elaborate murals had been painted on the wall from floor to ceiling, faded by still readable centuries later. They depicted historical events from ages past, and Robin desperately wanted to stop and examine them. Crocodile seemed to have other ideas. He purposefully strode down the dark path, not even pausing to glance at the beautiful scenes. It seemed highly arrogant of him; for all he knew the very clues he was looking for were etched onto the walls.

Suddenly Robin heard a slight _click_ , as if something had fallen into place. Robin threw herself backwards, dropping her torch as Crocodile burst into sand. As she scrambled into a more defensive position Crocodile reformed, hook at the ready. After a few tense moments they both realized that there was no one else on the dark path. Cautiously, Robin used a few extra hands to pick up the torch and studied the walls carefully.

On the left side of the tunnel lay three shattered wooden lances while n the right there were three identical holes hidden among the pictures. A small indentation on the ground was the only indication that Crocodile had set off the booby trap.

"Whoever enters this placed is cursed, eh?" Crocodile said. He put his torch into a holder in the wall and picked up one of the lance pieces for examination.

"It was good that you were walking in front of me," Robin said as she dusted herself off.

"What, you can't handle a few sticks?" he said, a lilt of mocking in his voice.

"The lances would not have been an issue by themselves, but the scorpion poison that they're dipped in may have presented a bit of a problem. The smallest of cuts is fatal in minutes without an antidote."

"How do you know that there's poison? These stupid twigs must have been here for centuries," Crocodile asked, now looking at the little piece of wood with curiosity.

"The poison of the desert scorpion has a very distinct smell, and is renowned for its potency and how easy it is to work with," Robin said. Mentally she tucked away the fact that Crocodile couldn't smell the sweet, almost cloying odor the lances gave off. Had years of smoking cigars affected his sense of smell, or had the large wound bisecting his face damaged the receptors in his nose? There was really no way of knowing, and Crocodile certainly wouldn't tell, but the information was useful nonetheless.

"Hmm, I guess you would know, wouldn't you?" he said thoughtfully. With a quick flick of the wrist the lance crumbled away into dust, "Anyway, let's get this nonsense over with. There's a country that needs taking over."

Robin watched as Crocodile picked up his torch and continued down the hall. The light of the torch made dancing shadows on the Warlord. This, along with the ambiance created a menacing atmosphere that made Robin shudder.

The hall was a dead end. Robin let out a small sigh and the pair went back to the main chamber, this time taking the next path. This one was also empty, save for a pair of skeletons. Crocodile ignored the dead and Robin followed, quietly apologizing for disrespect. The Warlord managed to set off three more booby traps, each one made useless by his logia defense.

The third tunnel was partially collapsed, an obstacle that once again meant nothing due to Crocodile's power. However, this path also ended without any clue regarding the poneglyphs. By now Crocodile was becoming visibly angry.

The second to last tunnel started off identical to the others, but as they walked the murals faded away, and the air seemed less dry. This tunnel was longer than the rest, with several disorientating twists and turns. The pair had walked for maybe a quarter of a mile before the ground changed from stone to dirt, and the tunnel opened into a second large chamber. The majority of the space was taken by an underground lake - likely the water source that Crocodile had sensed earlier. In the middle of the lake a stone platform rose out of the water. It was too far away for Robin to see, even with her power, but she was sure this was what they had been looking for.

"Of all the obstacles to face," Robin said dryly, kicking a small clod of dirt into the water.

Crocodile scowled. He quickly separated his hand that held the torch over the lake. From the banks they could barely make out something carved into the platform. Taking the hint, Robin crossed her hands in concentration. It was no good. The angles were all wrong; it was impossible to get a good view of what was written.

"If you want me to read that, I'll have to get closer."

Crocodile let out a long-suffering sigh, his displeased expression deepening. He brought his hand back and reattached it to his body before stalking the perimeter of the lake while grumbling to himself.

Luck must have been with them. They hadn't even walked half way around when the pair came across a little boat. Robin was highly suspicious of their good fortune, but they were in no position to look a gift horse in the mouth. After a quick examination showed no apparent defects, Robin stepped onto the boat. After a long pause Crocodile joined her.

They kicked off of shore, each paddle of the oar sending ripples across the surface of the lake. The water was dark and mesmerizing. It was impossible to see what—if any—danger lurked just beneath the surface.

Crocodile and Robin learned that the hard way when a giant reptilian monster leaped out of the depths, maw open in an attempt to eat whatever had disturbed its peace. The little boat rocked violently as a wave soaked them both. Robin ducked down and watched in morbid fascination as Crocodile _punched_ the creature back into the water as he let out a string of curses, after which the beast wasn't inclined to jump after them again.

Darkness enveloped them as Robin straightened herself, both torches thrown overboard in the surprise attack. After a moment of fumbling Crocodile flicked his lighter on. He paused to relight his cigar before holding up the pitiful flame.

"Was that…a banana gator?" Robin asked as she wrung out her waterlogged clothes.

"I think so," Crocodile rumbled.

"I didn't realize that they were so stealthy, or large for that matter."

Crocodile started laughing in his dry, staccato manner. "That was just a baby; you should see my collection at Rain Dinners."

If that was a baby, Robin was of the opinion that she wanted nowhere near an adult. "I'm sure they're magnificent," she said. Crocodile laughed again as a reply.

The banana gator attack had driven them significantly off course, but the lake wasn't big enough to make it a problem. They made their way to the stone, and no other creatures dared to try their luck.

Finally they made it. Crocodile held up his lighter with a cruel smile on his face. Once again hieroglyphs adorned the stone, but even with only a rudimentary knowledge of the ancient language Robin could tell that this was what they were looking for.

Once again she opened up her reference book. Robin grimaced at the water damage that it had received, grateful it wasn't a rare or valuable text. The translation was much trickier, and not just because it was almost impossible to see. The dialect was subtly different than any hieroglyphs she'd encountered in the past, and she tucked each oddity she encountered away for later study.

After painstakingly translating the stone, Robin turned to Crocodile, "The weapon isn't here or anywhere on this island for that matter. This suggests that the old kings hid the weapon, which we already knew, but this states that kings took the secret of its location to their graves. It implies that the answers lie in the tombs where they are buried."

Crocodile's face twisted into a grin. With a dramatic flick he closed his lighter, but not before Robin noticed several abrasions on his knuckles.

Very curious.

"Good. My plan to take over Alabasta has already started. I'll get you to the poneglyph, and you'll give me the weapon."

"Of course," was all Robin could say in reply.

* * *

The return trip to Alabasta was uneventful. Crocodile seemed to be scheming, and Robin didn't want to risk his wrath by interrupting. The Warlord's cleverness was nearly as infamous as his fighting prowess. The success of his casino alone proved that he could be a wealthy businessman without resorting to piracy or other illegal activities if he wanted to. Sadly for the world, Crocodile's ambition had grown beyond wealth and fame. He wanted power, and was willing to risk everything to get it.

Besides, Robin had things of her own to ponder. First and foremost were the strange cuts on Crocodile's knuckles. She was sure that they had not been present before their little excursion. In her mind's eye she replayed their movements, trying to untangle the secret to Crocodile's invincibility.

The only thing that possibly matched up was the banana gator attack. Crocodile had punched the beast, was that the key? Or was there something more?

Sand. Boat. Punch. Lake. Sand. Water. _Water._

Crocodile had a double weakness to water

Only self-control brought on by twenty years of betrayal and treachery kept her from gasping out loud. It seemed so obvious now. The desert kingdom, the ridiculously risky plan of stealing the rain, Crocodile's defeat in the New World. In a world that was mostly ocean, the Warlord was at a serious disadvantage.

Without letting on what she discovered, Robin began thinking of ways to use this weakness against him. Right now she was in a dangerous game with the highest stakes. Using the shadowy organization known as Baroque Works they would be fighting against the Alabastian government, the marines, and each other. There was no tolerance for failure.

When the pair got back to Rain Dinners, they quickly began manipulating Alabasta to its downfall. The day after their trip to the unnamed island Robin noticed a familiar sweet scent coming from Crocodile's office. A quick peek with her power confirmed that he had gotten his hand on the potent desert scorpion poison. Robin tactfully chose to say nothing, but acquired the antidote as soon as she could anonymously do so.

And so their relationship developed into a quiet cat and mouse game between a pair of notorious criminals who, by all outward appearances, had the perfect professional partnership. Neither fully trusted the other, but both were willing to do anything to achieve their goals.

Operation Utopia had begun.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This collection was originally posted on my fanfiction.net account over the course of three years. The plan is to do a little editing and polish some of the rust, but expect some fluctuation in quality along the way. Since the chapters have already been written, I hope to have semi-regular updates but life has a funny habit of getting in the way at times, so I make no promises. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading.


	2. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Crocodile's plans set firmly in motion, Miss All Sunday knows it's time to start searching for her next lead

The Alabastian air was bone dry as Miss All Sunday walked down a back alley in a rather unsavory part of Alburna. Whispers abounded, for once not directed at her. Alabasta was currently in the middle of its supposed rainy season, but once again rain was nowhere to be found. Frustration and dissent abounded, and Miss All Sunday (ever present of her surroundings) heard rumors of conspiracy and civil unrest. Business as usual.

But it was not today's business. Miss All Sunday had finished her paperwork ahead of schedule, made sure all the frontier agents were staying on task with their missions, and taken the afternoon off. Today she was running an errand that was much more important than the downfall of a country.

She had found another lead. Possibly, maybe, hopefully.

Miss All Sunday turned the final corner before reaching her destination. She paused, taking time to scout the vender with her power. After all, being caught browsing the black market would have been problematic, especially since Crocodile did not know of this little side trip. Finding nothing suspicious, she strode forward with all the confidence of a hardened criminal. She would not tolerate being taken advantage of, not with something this important.

At the sight of her arrival the body guards in charge of protecting the stall reached for their weapons. Miss All Sunday smirked behind her headdress at their charming, yet useless effort. She recognized one of the toughs as the Baroque Work agent who had inadvertently informed her of his employer's less than legal business operation. He obviously didn't recognize her in the traditional Alabastian garb that she donned for special occasions like this. The man and his fellow coworkers grabbed their swords and did their best to look intimidating with varying levels of success. Another man, pale and almost unnaturally thin with wild hair, came out from behind his stall.

"Peace, brothers, I believe she has an appointment," he said in a thick accent that was as impossible to place as it was fake. Slowly his guards lowered their weapons, but remained ill at ease with the stranger in their presence.

"Thank you, Mister…?" Miss All Sunday said in a low voice.

"Please, no names. Everyone is much happier with no names," he replied, flapping his hands in dismissal. Little did the man know that she already knew his name, the full nature of his business, as well as the family he had left behind in the North Blue. Sometimes being the head of an international crime syndicate had its perks.

"Very well. I believe you have a package for me?" The man nodded and led Miss All Sunday into a little building with poor lighting. She carefully sent her eyes and ears ahead of her, scouring the area. A small family of five was eating their dinner in a shack next door, but other than that the pair were alone.

The skinny man gestured Miss All Sunday to sit in an uncomfortable chair by a worn desk while he rummaged through his little shop. He returned with a small package and a triumphant grin. He sat down opposite of Miss All Sunday and slid the package across the desk in an overly dramatic fashion.

"The goods, I believe, that you inquired about. Satisfactory, yes?" he said as he sat back and crossed his arms in content.

Miss All Sunday didn't bother to dignify the smug little man with a response. Instead, she slowly opened the nondescript packaging to reveal the text inside. Carefully she flipped open to a random page, and then another. The book had some wear too it, but nothing too distressing. The publishing date and company, author, and editor were all correct. Without doing a thorough test, this was the real deal.

"How much?" she asked in a bored tone.

"One million, I think should suffice," he answered, still wearing a confident smirk.

"I think not," Miss All Sunday replied as she snapped the book shut. "This is rare, but not that rare."

"Miss, I do not believe you are understanding the situation fully. That book has been out of print for seven years, after a limited run. The government has declared its words heresy, and the man who wrote it is now dead. My offer stands, one million bellies."

"This text's author is known for his poor research and logical fallacy. He makes grandiose claims without having the facts to back them up, and has been largely disregarded from the scientific community as a fraud. I do not care how difficult it was to obtain, it is not worth one million berries, and we both know it," Miss All Sunday said coldly.

After a short staring contest, the man sighed and uncrossed his arms, "Fine, seventy five thousand, and not a berry less. I do have a business to run."

"Make it sixty five and you have yourself a deal, Mr. Bookkeep."

"Seventy."

"Done."

The man gave her an enthusiastic handshake, knowing full and well that he had over priced her despite the bartering that had taken place. Not that it mattered to Miss All Sunday. Crocodile would be footing the bill.

After the transaction took place, the man led her out of his store and back to the street. He gave her a slight bow, and told her it had been a pleasure doing business. He had no way of knowing that Miss All Sunday had already arranged for his untimely demise in an unfortunate accident later this week. As it was, she ignored him, eager to go back to Rain Dinners before she was missed.

She hadn't got far before she noticed a small shadow tailing her. Miss All Sunday frowned before going down a secluded alleyway, away from suspicious eyes. She turned to face whoever was following her. To her surprise, she caught a glimpse of a little girl before she ducked behind a trash heap. It was difficult to be sure, but the girl looked like she belonged to the family she had seen eating across the street from the book keeper. Miss All Sunday's frown deepened. She would have liked to get through this business without any hiccups.

"I know you're there. There's no use in hiding," Miss All Sunday called. 

The girl popped out from her hiding place. She eyed Miss All Sunday with a look of supreme distrust. She was wearing shabby Alabastian robes and no shoes. The air of a street wise urchin surrounded her, and she looked like she would bolt at the slightest provocation.

The child had also seen her with the book seller and, presumably, had been attempting to rob her of her wares.

There could be no loose ends, not with the stakes as high as they were. Miss All Sunday crossed her arms in a distinctive X shape, willing to keep her secret no matter the cost.

* * *

Back at Rain Dinners, Miss All Sunday examined her new purchase with trembling hands. Here was her final glimmer of hope, slight as it was. It was rumored that this text held the secret of an indestructible stone, carved in strange characters that no one could decipher.

Everything rode on this book. Crocodile's plan was running smoothly and reaching its endgame; war would most certainly break out within the year. Miss All Sunday had no plans of actually giving the Warlord what he was looking for, but she desperately needed her next lead. After twenty years of searching, she had run out of places to look. If Alabasta's poneglyph wasn't the Rio Poneglyph, she would be at a loss at what to do next.

The thought terrified her.

So she painstakingly scoured the ppages for the slightest hint or the most hidden clue. As expected, the author's research was poor. He wrote of rumors and myths from second-hand sources, with no evidence or verification. And while Miss All Sunday had witnessed firsthand how corrupt the World Government could be, the wild claims this man made were…unlikely to say the least.

There wa nothing useful, no new information about poneglyphs. Miss All Sunday closed her eyes in frustration and suddenly felt very old. Like a stone constantly beaten by the waves, she was worn and tired. Is this what Saul meant when he told her to live? Would Professor Clover be proud of her efforts in Alabasta?

What would her mother have thought about the temptation Miss All Sunday had to murder a little girl, simply for having seen her?

* * *

" _Following strangers is a very dangerous hobby," Miss All Sunday commented, as if she were talking about the weather._

_The girl scuffed her feet in the sand, unsure what to do now that she had been caught. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for an escape. After a long pause, Miss All Sunday continued, "Especially when you don't know who you're following," the child's eyes widened in fear._

_"I didn' mean nuthin' of it, Miss! I jus' heard Tufts talking about a big customer, and I thought I'd check it out!"_

_"Tufts?" Miss All Sunday asked in amusement._

_"The seller-man, 'cause of his hair," she said._

_"I see. So you thought robbing me would be a good idea then?"_

_"No! Of course not, I-I was just-" the girl's blabbering stopped when a disembodied arm grew out of her chest and pinched her lips closed. In public Miss All Sunday made sure not to show off her power, but right now she wasn't Miss All Sunday, and right now they were alone. The girl's eyes grew even larger, and tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes. Miss All Sunday sauntered over towards her, towering over the terrified child._

_Miss All Sunday knew, intellectually speaking, that she should just kill her and be done with it. The longer they stayed in this little back street the greater chance they had of getting found. It might even be a kindness. Bad things were coming to Alabasta, and there was a high chance that this girl would suffer horribly. At least Miss All Sunday could promise a quick and painless death._

_More arms sprouted from the girl's chest and pinned her arms to her side. The girl began to struggle, but hands grew from the ground to hold her ankles fast. She squirmed like a wet fish, momentarily breaking Miss All Sunday's hold on her mouth. There was a wild, desperate look in her eyes. It was as if Miss All Sunday was seeing a reflection of her eight year old self._

_"Please miss," the girl managed to whisper. "I just want to go home."_

_The girl's quiet plea broke something in Miss All Sunday. In a moment of weakness, the hands dissipated, and the girl ran for her life, not giving her the chance to change her mind. After standing awhile dumbstruck, Miss All Sunday hurried back to Rain Dinners. She had already wasted too much time in this place._

* * *

Yes, Miss All Sunday was very, very tired.

Most frustrating of all, she _knew_ how futile her struggle was. Not even the shadow of Crocodile's protection was enough to keep her safe from her enemies. How many years had it been since she had been called by her real name? How many years had it been since she referred to _herself_ by her real name?

How many more would she have to endure before she was free to follow the dream her forebears had died for?

With a small sigh, Miss All Sunday closed the useless book and placed it in her collection. A proper hiding place would be found for it tomorrow. Right now she needed to go to sleep.

But, like for the last twenty years, rest would not come.

 


	3. Square vs Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin asks Professor Clover a question, and the rest, as they say, is history

Professor Clover was up to his elbows in important and rather illegal research when young Nico Robin nervously approached, book in hand. Clover glanced over at her, took off his glasses, and gave her the kindliest smile he could conjure. The girl had been visiting the great library for months now, but was only now just starting to come out of her shell.

"Is there something I can help you with Robin?" he asked. Robin looked down at her shoes, seemingly embarrassed, before asking her question.

"Professor, why are these houses square?" she asked quietly.

Clover blinked in confusion before Robin propped her book onto his desk and pointed to one of the illustrations therein. It was a picture of some quaint little village, whose houses were indeed all of the rectangular verity and not at all like the round stone houses Oharans tended to favor.

The professor gave a quiet chuckle, and Robin looked down at ground again. Not wanting to in any way quash the girl's desire to learn, Clover quickly pulled up a chair and gestured for her to sit down.

"My dear Robin, what an excellent question! But before I answer yours, I must ask one in return!" he exclaimed, "Why do _we_ have round houses?" he asked, adding a dramatic wiggling of the eyebrows for effect. Robin opened her mouth to answer, before promptly shutting it again with a frown.

"I…I don't know, Professor," she admitted.

"Would it surprise you, then, to hear that most places at this time of history have rectangular houses, and that the people of Ohara are indeed the exception?" Clover said. He had to stifle a laugh as the girl gaped at him.

"But why?" Robin sputtered.

"Why we have round houses, or why other places have rectangular ones?" he asked, lacing his fingers across his stomach as he leaned back in his chair.

"Both!" she exclaimed. All traces of her shyness disappeared, leaving an eager mind in its place.

Her expression reminded Clover of Olvia at that age, and he couldn't help but smile. "Well, there are many theories as to the origin of our round houses, and round houses in other cultures. Do you know what culture's are Robin?"

"They're different people's ideas, aren't they?"

"Kind of. As different civilizations have come from all over the world (you know what a civilization is, right? Good.) They develop different traditions and ways of life. This leads to different rules of society, and different ways of life. All this mixed together makes a culture. For example, how we live here is much different than, say, Alabasta because it has a different culture." Clover stopped and stroked his beard, contemplating how to continue. Explaining ideas as big as this was difficult in a child so young, no matter how bright she may be. He took a quick peek at the book she was reading, and was struck with inspiration.

"Your book, _Brag Men_ , for example. Most people don't think it's real because it's too different, when really those explorers just experienced very different cultures."

"You mean this is real?" Robin asked in wonder.

"Of course! I know for sure because I've actually been to those places," Clover winked at Robin as she stared at him again, the amazement written all over her face.

"Now back to your question. There are some civilizations that made round houses because they were afraid of demons attacking them, and their religion told them that demons could strike from corners. I don't think that is the case for Ohara." He paused dramatically.

"Why?" Robin asked.

"Because of the very tree you're sitting in, my dear! The Tree of Knowledge is over a thousand years old, and has been storing books for at least that long. If you look carefully, the round houses of Ohara almost look like tree trunks, don't you think?" Clover said as he gestured to the library that surrounded him.

Robin complimented this for a while before slowly nodding her head in agreement. The professor grinned and ruffled her hair.

"I'll tell you a secret Robin - that's just my best guess. Even I don't know for sure why we have round houses, or why other places don't. But if we study hard enough and long enough, there is no secret that can't be solved. We are blessed enough to be surrounded by knowledge, just waiting to be learned." Robin just nodded again as she at the library around her with wide eyes.

"Is that what you do, Professor?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, I try to untangle the web of history through the texts that have survived. We archeologists believe that the mysteries of the past hold the keys to the future."

"My mom's an archeologist," Robin whispered.

"Yes she is," Clover said sagely, "right now she's out on the ocean doing very important work."

"Then I want to be one, too!" she exclaimed, looking up to him with a sudden desperation. "I want to learn, and figure things out and…and go out to the sea!"

She said it with such ferocity that Clover almost believed her. Of course Robin was far too young to understand what she was saying. Still, if the girl wanted to study archeology it wasn't his place to dissuade her.

"I understand, Robin. But know this, being an archeologist is very difficult and takes a lot of time." Robin seemed to droop at his words, but Clover reached down and lift her head back up. "I didn't say it was impossible, my dear, just very, very hard. I believe that you are a smart enough girl that if you stay dedicated you can do whatever you want."

"Really?" she asked, voice full of uncertainty.

"Yes, I really do," he replied before pulling her into an impromptu hug. After a moment's hesitation, Robin hugged back, grabbing on as if Clover were a life preserver.

Neither of them cried, although Clover's vision did cloud uncomfortably for a moment. After a while she let go, and gave him a shaky smile, which he returned whole heartedly. After discussing the concept of culture some more, he took her hand and showed her some different books that might interest her. She picked a few, and then returned to her home, and he went back to his desk to finish his work.

Unsurprisingly, some of the other archeologists were already there, giving him knowing looks.

"What?" he asked, pretending he had no idea why they were all gathered.

"Archeologist, huh? A little young, don'cha think?" Busshiri drawled.

"I am not going to deny anyone's search for knowledge, whether they are one or one hundred. I see nothing wrong with teaching her; it's not as if I expect the girl to take her exams tomorrow. If anything we should be glad the youth are taking such a vested interest in the past." Clover's coworkers continued to stare at him, knowing that his interest in Robin was deeper than he let on.

"Don't you all have work to do, or something!" he snapped. The other archeologists rolled their eyes at their eccentric leader before continuing their research.

None of them, not even Clover, fully understood Robin's genius. None of them expected Robin to come back the next day, mostly finished with her books, asking intelligent and thoughtful questions.

None of them expected her to come back the day after that either and they were all surprised when she asked if she could permanently check out a dictionary so she could look up any words she didn't know.

None of them expected her to become the youngest scholar in history, or to score a perfect score on her exam. None of them thought she could fully master a dead language by the age of eight, without any help.

But she did. Clover didn't know it, but the day he answered her one little question he lit a nearly unquenchable dream to not only learn, but to understand.

However, that was the future. Right now she was just a little girl who wanted to know the difference between round and square houses.

 


	4. The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving the Buster Call was one thing, living on after it was another

When Robin dreamed of going to sea, she had envisioned herself next to her mother learning the secret of the lost history. Sitting alone in a tiny boat with only ice to guide her had never been a part of the plan.

Neither had the destruction of Ohara, a horrible picture that was forever burned into her mind.

_No one could survive._

Alone. Nico Robin was all alone.

_LIVE!_

_Be proud! Today was the day that Ohara fought the world!_

_Eliminate him! Ohara has learned too much._

_If you want to die of bitterness, well, that's your choice, too._

Robin sat in the little boat, exhausted, having cried all the tears she had to cry.

* * *

A sudden stop woke Robin up with a jolt. It was night. After a moment of confusion, she realized she had reached land. The ice-man had told the truth and led her to the next island. Robin licked her lips, tasting the salt on them. She needed water and food, but most of all she needed to get away.

Robin couldn't think of any safe place to go, or any people to run to. The government, the people that were supposed to _protect_ , had pummeled Ohara so much that they _set it on fire._ The library was gone. Her family was gone. Her teachers were gone. Her home was gone.

The thought almost made Robin throw up.

_The most important thing is my life!_

_I'm so proud of you._

_I've wanted to do this for a long time._

_The name of that country was—_

* * *

The island Robin landed on was home to a large town. A majestic fountain towered over the central square, and she stopped to take a drink. That taken care of, she searched for a place to hide. Robin knew she needed a plan. She needed to _think_.

Right now thinking was hard. She kept remembering the men in black suits and the townspeople screaming and the whistle of the cannons and the sound of explosions. Robin felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest, leaving a gaping hole in its place. Her whole body ached from being thrown around like a rag doll, and her ears still rang with cannon fire.

Robin forced all of that down, along with the bile rising in her throat. She had to think. She was the last one. She had to live, to learn, and decipher. If she didn't Ohara would be forgotten, a fate worse than death.

_Get to the refugee ship!_

_Put out the fire!_

_I'm Robin! Even though I'm bigger…You really don't remember me?_

_Give the signal for attack!_

* * *

Robin stumbled into an alleyway, barely managing to make it before her stomach finally rebelled. The water she had just drunk sloshed on the ground and she broke out into a cold sweat. Robin sat on the ground and put her head between her knees, forcing herself to take deep breaths. She could smell the smoke that had ingrained itself into her dress, almost making her gag again.

A plan. She needed a plan. Think. Be smart. Get away. Run, run, run, run, _run_.

_It's the monster, don't let her on board!_

_Ice...time._

_When you have a hardship, remember to smile._

_I don't want to be alone anymore!_

_Dereshishishi_!

But no matter how hard Robin tried, Saul's smile wouldn't come.

* * *

That night in the alley was the most miserable of Robin's life.

But the sun eventually rose, and with it a chance to get away. Robin knew her idea wasn't very good, but nothing better came to mind. News of the Buster Call would spread soon, and she wanted to be far away when it did. Her panic had faded as her fatigue increased, with a cold fear creeping in to take its place.

Robin went to the docks and watched. The fishermen came out first, paying no attention to her as they went about their business. Slowly the rest of the town woke up and more and more people appeared.

By Robin's estimate it was eight o'clock when she saw her chance. Civilians were boarding a passenger ship set to sail in half an hour, headed for an island three days northeast. Doing her best to blend with the crowd she slipped on the ship, using her size to stay unnoticed. Once on board, everyone would think she was someone else's child, and if she stayed quiet no one would question that assumption.

Professor had once told her that most people were terribly unobservant. Robin hoped he was right, and that no one would notice her dirty clothes or the smoke smell that wouldn't go away.

_Can you be proud of this attack?_

_Absolute Justice has been known to drive men insane…_

_Try to live as ordinary life as possible._

_Know this; I am not your friend. I am the enemy that will be the first to catch you_.

The entire trip Robin felt like she was being watched.

* * *

Nico Robin held her newly minted bounty poster close to her chest as she hid from the mob that had gathered to kill her.

She had tried to do what the ice man said and be unassuming, at least until she was old enough to travel by herself safely. After all, wasn't practical for an eight year old to go out on a solo campaign against the entire World Government, and there were things she needed to prepare for if she were to take it head on.

Now that was impossible. Now she was wanted. The newspapers said she destroyed six marine warships and that the Ohara scholars had conspired revive a dangerous weapon. The government had deemed her head worthy of 79,000,000 berries.

Fear constantly ate at her, sleep eluded her, and people hunted her.

_Devil child!_

_Monster!_

_You never should have been born!_

_Your very existence is a sin!_

_DIE_!

Nico Robin, the last of the Oherans, was well and truly alone.

 


	5. An Archeologist's ABCs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As well-read as she is, it should be no surprise that Robin's vocabulary was larger than the average person's. Or, the Demon Child's life as told by the ABCs

Attrition

For years Robin and Crocodile warred against one another, until the day came when she simply didn't have the energy to fight him any longer.

 

Bereft

While most enjoyed celebrating their birthdays, Robin always preferred to keep hers a low-key affair in memory of those who, by all rights, should still be alive to celebrate with her.

 

Cataclysm

The push of a button was all it took to change her life forever.

 

Doorstopper

The look on Professor Clover's face when he saw a five year old Nico Robin attempt to carry a book that weighed nearly as much as she did was only equaled when he saw her successfully read it.

 

Engrossed

It took three Straw Hats and a freak hurricane to catch her attention once she had started reading a new text detailing the history of a long-forgotten people.

 

Facetious

It took a great deal of explaining to convince Nami that, yes, there was an island in the sky, and, no, she wasn't trying to kill them all in convincing Luffy to go there.

 

Gobbledygook

It gave Robin no small satisfaction to know that she was the only one in the entire world who could look at the poneglyphs and see more than nonsense scribbles.

 

Haven

The lamb had always been a symbol of peace and innocence, maybe the figurehead of the Straw Hat's ship was a sign after all.

 

Idiosyncrasy

Robin let out a small sigh of relief when she discovered the _Going Merry's_ ample supply of coffee.

 

Juxtapose

It was only after comparing her new life to the old that Robin realized she would rather die than lose them.

 

Kinship

In a way she felt responsible for them, like a mother watching over her adult children.

 

Lackluster

Robin refused to apologize to Franky for it; giant robots could never captivate her interests like a body that had been dead for a hundred years.

 

Magnanimous

Looking back, forgiveness wasn't enough to describe what the Straw Hats had given her.

 

Nadir

It was on that bridge as she was drug towards the Gate of Justice that Robin reached her lowest point.

 

Opportunistic

Whether it was a new clue in her hunt for the Lost History or simply a chance to pull a fast one on her crewmates, Robin always keeps her (many) eyes peeled.

 

Pandemonium

With Straw Hat Luffy as captain there is never a dull moment.

 

Quandary

The question was whether or not killing the princess was in her best interest.

 

Recluse

Even as a child studying under the watchful eyes of the archeologists, there were times where Robin preferred to be left alone with her thoughts.

 

Succinct

If Luffy has taught her anything at all, it's that there is a certain genius in keeping things simple and to the point.

 

Tact

To be honest, she's amazed that they've made it this far without any whatsoever.

 

Unabashed

Having spent most of her life in the presence of less than savory individuals, Robin was surprised to learn that there were some things that just shouldn't be spoken of at the dinner table.

 

Vendetta

Forgiveness was out of the question, not when she still saw the ghosts of her loved ones every time she closed her eyes.

 

Waif

Robin didn't know what was worse: the looks of pity from the strangers that saw her duck in an alleyway, dirty and underfed, or the murderous rage that filled their eyes once they realized who she was.

 

Xerostomia

A split second was the only warning she got; the moment after her mouth went dry, Crocodile's hook pierced through her chest.

 

Yearning

At this point it would be impossible for her to settle down; the urge to know more, the wanderlust, always drives her onward.

 

Zeal

Every scrap of information, every last one of her vast collection of creepy facts, was learned the hard way: through intense study and never ending scrutiny of the world around her.

 


	6. The Flower-Flower Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunger makes people do stupid things, like eating an unknown, possibly poisonous fruit found in the middle of the woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of child abuse this chapter. Nothing more extreme than shown in canon, I think, but consider yourself warned

It was a clear, bright morning in Ohara. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and when it was all said and done it was shaping up to be a pleasant day. Robin cracked open an eye as sun gleamed through her window, telling the girl it was time to get up.

The good mood was not to last, of course. The night before Robin had made Aunt Roji angry, and right now the woman was on a warpath. Robin got up and dressed for the day as quietly as she could, doing her best not to upset her aunt further. There were no chores that needed to be done that morning, so she planned on going to the Tree of Knowledge. Professor was starting to teach her about burial rites of different cultures, and she was eager to continue her lessons.

Robin hurried out of the house, hoping to avoid Auntie's temper. In her rush to leave, Robin eschewed breakfast, pausing only to grab her book. It was only when she was walking through the village that she remembered that Professor had an important meeting with the head of the history department of the University of the Arts and Sciences in Mariejois. He would be unavailable until later in the morning, if not early afternoon.

Her plan foiled, Robin changed direction and headed for the woods. There she had discovered a perfect reading spot, free of the dirty looks and harsh whispers that seemed to follow her everywhere else. When she arrived to the little clearing she plopped down by one of the trees and began to read, with no company save for ants and the occasional bird.

Robin had just begun a fascinating section about the Kingdom of Breeze when her stomach let out a loud grumble. She ignored it - today was not the first day she had gone without breakfast - and continued to read. Her stomach grumbled again, her body reminding her that she had also missed supper last night as punishment for upsetting Auntie.

With a quick glance to make sure no one else was around to hear her treacherous body, Robin got up. She stretched, wondering what she should to do. There was sometimes food at the Tree of Knowledge, but Robin didn't want to interrupt Professor's meeting. On the other hand, Robin _really_ didn't want to go back home. Auntie was scary when she got mad, and Auntie often got mad when Robin asked for food. With no allowance to buy something at the market, she was stuck between those two choices and going without. At the thought of sticking it out, her belly let out its loudest protest yet.

Reluctantly Robin began to walk to the Tree of Knowledge. Surely if she was quiet and stayed out of the way she wouldn't bother anyone, at least that's what worked at home. Still, she walked as slowly as she could. The thought of possibly upsetting the Professor in any way made her cringe.

She hadn't gotten far when a brightly colored sphere caught her eye. Curious, Robin went over and examined the strange object. It looked like an orange apple, covered in swirls that gave it an exotic appearance. The fruit grew on a vine, which was weird because Robin knew for sure that apples grew on trees. Robin had never seen anything like it and to the hungry girl it looked very, very good.

Carefully she plucked the not-apple off its vine. The fruit certainly felt like an apple, but it had a thick outer skin much like an orange. To Robin, it almost felt like it was giving off a certain energy that compelled her to eat it. Without further thought, she peeled the fruit and took a large bite.

The taste almost made Robin gag. The fruit had the most horrible flavor that anyone could possibly imagine. Robin forced the bite down and looked at the fruit in disgust. The compulsion to eat it was gone, the bright fruit just sat in her hand as if mocking her hunger. How could something so good looking taste so terribly bad? Juice dripped down her hand as Robin contemplated just chucking the thing as far as she could when a horrible thought came to her.

What if it was poisonous?

A factoid from one of her lessons sprung to mind: many poisonous substances tasted bitter to the human palate. It served as a wonderful defense mechanism for the human race, which as a whole tended not to eat things that tasted bad, as well as protection to the plants themselves.

Many poisonous animals also had bright colors. Did that carry over to plants? Robin didn't know, and not knowing frightened her. Now she looked at the fruit in horror as her stomach began to churn. Why had she eaten that fruit (was it even a fruit? Was there the possibility that it was some form of vegetable?) when she had no idea what it was? Panic began to settle in as Robin convinced herself that she had just managed the dumbest form of self poisoning in the history of the world. She stood, at a complete loss as to what to do. She had only eaten one bite, but taking her size and age into account that might be enough for toxic levels of whatever this not-apple really was to enter her system.

Professor Clover would know what to do, he always did. Taking the fruit with her for identification, Robin ran to the Tree of Knowledge. She took the quickest route she knew, ignoring the cries for her to slow down from the people she saw.

Robin made it to the tree in record time and burst open the doors in her hurry to find the professor. Rint sat at the front desk, taking notes from a book. The large woman smiled as heard Robin arrive, only to startle when she saw the state Robin was in.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I-I need to see Professor!" Robin gasped, her lungs burning from her sprint to the library.

"Professor Clover is busy right now. Can I help you?" Rint asked gently.

Robin showed her the fruit, "Do you know what this is?" she asked in desperation. Rint's eyes widened and she let out a soft gasp.

"Where did you find this?" she demanded.

"I-in the woods. I took a bite, is that bad?"

Rint's eyes got even bigger as she took the fruit from Robin and examined it carefully. She muttered something to herself before addressing Robin again. "Did you show this to anyone else?" Robin shook her head and Rint nodded to herself. "I'll go get the professor for you. Wait here."

Rint hurried out of the room, leaving a confused and scared Robin behind.

***

Clover's meeting with the department head was not going well. The man had come offering a partnership between the University of Mariejois' history department and the scholars found at the Tree of Knowledge. With flowery prose, the slime ball had described how such a partnership would financially benefit both institutions and how greater transparency within the scientific community would benefit the world.

While the pretty words painted the picture of a glorious new venture, Clover could see the truth behind them. The University of Arts and Sciences was directly under the government's control. By greater transparency he meant complete supervision, and by financially beneficial he meant money from the aristocrats within the high nobility. And while Clover had nothing against wealthy patrons backing an institution, he wanted nothing to do with money gained from human trafficking and the corruption that abounded within the upper echelon that were the Celestial Dragons.

So in a way he was thankful when Rint interrupted his meeting without as much as a knock. The department head sneered at the harried woman before giving Clover a sharp look.

"Didn't you tell your people that you were busy?" he said, his voice dripping with scorn. Rint ignored him and addressed Clover directly.

"I need to talk to you." Her voice had a clipped tone that was hardly ever present in the generally jolly woman. Clover gave her a concerned look before standing.

"Wait! We're not finished here!"

"Yes, we are," Professor Clover said. "I'm sorry, but please tell your superiors that the Tree of Knowledge is not interested in any sort of joint venture at this time. We feel that we are best served in retaining our independence. Have a good day, sir, I'm sure you can show yourself out." After giving him a stiff bow, Clover left the man sputtering in his seat and followed Rint into the hallway.

"That'll come back to haunt you," she muttered.

"We were already under suspicion; this doesn't make much of a difference. Now, what did you need?"

"Robin came in, said she took a bite of this." Rint held up an orange object that looked almost like an apple, but no apple had those distinctive swirls that indicated only one thing...

"Dear Lord," Clover breathed as he took the Devil Fruit from her.

"She seemed pretty upset. Do you think she knows?" Rint asked, looking more and more worried.

"We haven't covered Devil Fruits in our lessons together yet, but at the rate that child reads who knows what she knows. But if she _did_ know, I would think she would've brought it in instead of trying to eat it…" Clover's train of thought wandered as they approached Robin.

She sat in the corner of the lobby, her head in her hands and shaking like a leaf. By some blessing from above she didn't seem to be crying, but it was by far the most distressed Clover had seen her.

"Pretty upset, huh?" Clover said before sighing heavily. "I'll take care of this. Please make sure that our friend from Mariejois makes his way out safely. We would hate for him to get 'lost' somewhere and find something he shouldn't." Rint gave a sharp nod and left him with Robin. Devil Fruit in hand he approached her, wondering how he would break this to her.

"Robin?" Clover said carefully. She jerked up and quickly wiped her eyes with her hands. Maybe she had been crying after all. Damn.

"Am I going to die?" she whispered.

"Die? Whatever gave you that idea?" he asked.

Solemnly she pointed to the Devil Fruit, "That's poisonous, isn't it? And I ate some," Robin replied sullenly.

"Now Robin, I don't know what you've read about Devil Fruits, but they aren't poisonous."

"Devil Fruit? That's a _Devil Fruit_?" she exclaimed. They looked at each other in confusion.

"All right, it's obvious I don't have all the facts here," Clover began slowly. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened and why you think this is poisonous."

Clover sat down beside Robin as she told her disjointed story. He almost groaned when she told him the reason she had eaten an unknown object.

"Robin, why didn't you just come here if you were hungry? You know we keep food in the back room." he asked when she finished her story

"You said you were in a meeting, and I didn't want to be in the way," came the quiet reply. Clover frowned at her line of reasoning.

Clover put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye, "Robin, listen to me; this is very important: You are always welcome here. Even if the other archeologists and I are busy, we trust you enough to be in here by yourself. Do you understand that?" Robin gave an unsure nod, and he continued, "Good. Now back to the matter at hand. Do you know anything about Devil Fruits?"

"No. You said that we'd talk about them later, and no one else believes in them."

"Well, we're going to learn about them today. Wait here a minute, I need to grab some things." Robin nodded again, and Clover got up and left for several minutes. When he came back, it was one very thick book, a notepad, and some pens. He handed her the paper and pens before showing her the book.

"You can use those for notes," he said. With a dramatic thump, he sat the book (encyclopedia, really) on the table. Robin peered at the cover for a moment before waiting for him to continue. "This is everything we know about Devil Fruits."

"That's not very much," Robin noted.

"You're absolutely right, which is why there is such a great misconception surrounding them. You can ask ten different people what a Devil Fruit is and come up with ten different answers. Now, to start off with…" Slipping easily into the role of benevolent teacher, Professor Clover taught Robin everything he knew about Devil Fruits. He tried to set it up as just another lesion between the two of them and thought he did quite well considering the circumstances.

They ended their lesson by looking up the specific fruit Robin had eaten. Luckily, its abilities were known and after a moment examining the picture and the description of it.

"Hm, Flower-Flower. Bit of a misnomer, but it seems like a pretty handy ability, if you pardon my pun." Robin gave him a small smile. Now that she was convinced she hadn't poisoned herself she looked much calmer. He returned her small smile with a grin of his own, "Do you want to try it out?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice. She nodded enthusiastically before closing her eyes in concentration.

As if by magic, a hand grew out of the table. Clover heard a gasp of surprise from behind them. Robin's eyes snapped open and the hand disappeared leaving only petals behind.

"Sorry to distract you. I just wanted to see how ya were doing," Rint said sheepishly.

"We just finished our lesson." Clover said before glancing at the clock, "My goodness! Look at the time. You should probably be heading home, dear."

Robin suddenly looked stricken. "How will I tell my aunt and uncle?"

"Would you like it if I came with you?" Clover asked.

Her relief was painfully evident. "Yes, please."

"All right. Oh, and you can take this with you if you want," he said as he handed her the encyclopedia. Robin's eyes widened as she took the rare and valuable book and held it close to her chest. Clover turned and addressed Rint. "I'll be back soon if you need me."

"We'll be fine. I'll just head back to the basement with the others. Got quite the mess down there that needs cleaned up," she said to Robin with a wink. Clover rolled his eyes. The only thing in the basement was a poneglyph that they were attempting to decipher. Robin was too preoccupied to notice, and accepted the explanation as she slid out of her chair.

The walk to Robin's house was a silent one. It was late in the afternoon, and people all around were getting ready to go home and eat supper. The pair were given a wide berth, but Clover was used to such things by now and didn't give it any thought. But as they got closer and closer to the house, the more Robin withdrew into herself. Clover, only used to seeing her at the Tree of Knowledge, watched her as she clutched her book so hard her knuckles turned white.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Professor Clover murmured knowingly. "Devil Fruits are a rare but natural - if unexplained - phenomena. I'll make sure your aunt understands that."

The platitudes did not reassure her, but before he got to think about it too long they reached the house. Robin knocked on the door before entering. They hadn't even made it past the doorway when Roji's voice reached them.

"Where have you been?" she screeched before she could even see them. Robin shrunk down even more.

"She's angry," Robin whispered to him.

"And who is this? What are you doing bringing strangers home?" Roji asked as she rounded the corner.

"Hello ma'am. I'm Professor Clover from the Tree of Knowledge. I've been tutoring Robin," Clover said in an attempt to pacify her. Roji squinted her eyes at him. Before Clover could say anything else her husband came from down the stairs.

"Honey, what's the matt-oh? Hello there Professor. I didn't expect to see you here this afternoon," Oron said as he gave Clover a firm handshake.

"You know this man?" Roji asked, still eyeing him suspiciously.

"Sure! He's the one that taught Olvia. He's the head honcho over there at the big tree. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Oron said. Roji's stare intensified. Apparently bringing up Olvia had been a mistake. Robin seemed to catch this, and halfway hid herself behind him. Inwardly Clover frowned.

"Do you mind if I come in? There's something happened today that we need to inform you of," Clover asked. Oron looked surprised, and if possible Roji's glare deepened. Moving as little as possible she allowed him into her home and guided them into the living room. There a girl sat, playing with some dolls. Robin's cousin, Clover presumed.

"Okay, if there's something you need to say, say it," Roji said, arms folded across her chest. Oron gave Clover a small shrug as if to say 'what can you do?' Taking this as an invitation to talk, Clover began to explain what had happened to Robin earlier that day.

When Clover finished his story, Roji burst out laughing. It was a cruel, unpleasant laugh, meant to hurt. When she got herself under control she looked at him and said, "You expect me to believe that the brat ate some sort of fruit that lets her grow extra body parts? I don't know what kind of game you're playing, _Professor_ , but if you're trying any funny buisness you had better leave."

Clover looked from Robin to her family. He gave the girl a small nudge of encouragement before addressing them. "Well, this is settled easily enough. How about a demonstration?"

Robin looked up at him in disbelief, and he gave her his warmest smile. She closed her eyes in concentration for a second time and lifted one of her arms. After a few seconds a second arm grew from her elbow, and then a third.

The effect was immediate. Roji and her daughter screamed, and Oron placed himself between his wife and Robin. The look on their faces were clear. Even though Clover had just explained the concept of the Devil Fruit to them they still thought Robin to be a monster. The extra arms poofed away, leaving Robin with a look of raw hurt before she stared at the floor.

"Now wait just a minute, you're taking this wrong. Nothing has changed here, Ro-" Clover exclaimed before Roji cut him off.

"That girl just grew extra arms out of her elbows and you're telling us _we're taking this wrong_?" she hissed before pointing to the door. "I think that you need to leave." Oron nodded in agreement with his wife. Clover looked at Robin and then her family, unsure of what to do.

"It's okay Professor. I'll be okay," Robin said from his side.

"If you don't leave within the next thirty seconds I'm calling the Peace Officers! You're not welcome here!" Roji shouted.

Unsure if he was making the worst decision of his life, Clover left.

***

Clover did not see Robin the next day. He spent his time pacing up and down the Tree of Knowledge, worried about his youngest student's well-being. His colleagues, by now aware of the situation, tried to calm him down with little success.

Another day passed with no word. He called the house twice, only to be hung up on both times.

As the third day almost came to a close, Clover decided to go back to Robin's house, Peace Officers be damned. There was no way he could stand another second not knowing if Robin was okay. He tried to call one more time before he left, and this time there was no answer.

The house was dark when he arrived. He knocked on the door and waited.

And waited…

and waited….

For what seemed like an eternity. Finally the door opened a crack and Robin looked up at him. A weight that must have been a thousand pounds was lifted from his shoulders.

"Hello, Professor," she said softly.

"Hello, Robin. May I come in?" he asked.

"I don't think my aunt would like that very much," she said, eyes dropping.

"Is she home?"

"No. They all went out for the evening, and won't be back till late."

"Well, then I think what she doesn't know won't hurt her. What do you think?" Robin glanced up at him, hesitating, before opening the door all the way up.

For the second time, Clover was led to the living room. Together they sat on the sofa in an uncomfortable silence.

"Are you all right?" Clover asked when he found his voice.

"Yes," Robin said, unable to bring herself to look at him.

"We miss you at the library."

"I'm grounded for awhile."

"Would you like it if I brought you something to read?"

Again Robin paused, before nodding her head. Clover couldn't help but smile as he looked down at his student.

And then he saw it. A dark bruise on her shoulder; not quite covered up by her dress or hidden by her hair, where an adult hand had grabbed her hard enough to leave a lasting mark. A flash of fury went through him, directed both at the perpetrator and himself. Suddenly several things clicked: Robin's demeanor, her hesitation, her nervousness at the thought of going to her home.

How long had he been blind of the signs?

And why could he do nothing to fix it?

Again there was a long silence between the two as Clover tried to think of something to say to the girl. Robin just sat. She looked more than just unhappy, Clover thought, she had the look of someone defeated.

"You know, Robin, there's something very important that I want you to know," he began as he stroked his beard. Robin looked up at him, misery written on her face. "You are, and always will be, welcome at the Tree of Knowledge."

"Even though I'm a monster?" she asked.

"Nico Robin, you are not a monster," Clover said sharply. She flinched at his tone, and he forced himself to calm down, "You are not a monster. You have a power, yes, but who you are is based on how you use that power. You are the bravest, most intelligent little girl I have ever met, and I am honored to be your teacher."

Clover had been trying to make Robin feel better, but for some reason his words made her cry. And while he was a brilliant archeologist with an extensive knowledge of most of the cultures in the history of the world, he had no idea how to console little girls in horrible circumstances. So he did the only thing he could think of and wrap one arm around her and pull her close until Robin cried herself to sleep.

It was getting late, and he didn't want to risk another run-in with her aunt and uncle. With a grunt he picked Robin up, who barely stirred from her sleep, and went in search of her bedroom. Thankfully it was easy to find, so he laid her in bed, tucked her in, and left.

He couldn't help but notice the Devil Fruit encyclopedia propped open to the page featuring the Flower-Flower fruit.

***

A beam of sunlight coming through her bedroom window let Robin know it was time to wake up. At first she couldn't remember why she was in her bed, but then the fuzzy memory of Professor carrying her up the stairs flashed in her mind's eye.

Robin turned and saw the open book Professor had let her borrow. Slowly last night's conversation began to come back to her. She was deeply embarrassed, crying like that in front of him like that, but it felt better knowing he was actually proud to be her teacher.

She closed her eyes as she tried to call up her power. It was hard to concentrate on making extra arms or eyes or ears, but it was getting easier. It was a strange sensation, her real hands could feel what the copies could, but she was getting used to that, too. Robin let her extra hands disappear, watching as little petals (cherry blossoms, maybe? She would have to look it up) drift down onto her bed. Today was a new day, and she resolved to make the best of it.

Downstairs she heard Auntie making breakfast. She was still mad, and Robin did her best to stay out her way. But she would calm down eventually, and when she did Robin knew she would be allowed to return to the Tree of Knowledge.

The only place Robin knew where she actually belonged.


	7. The Joy of Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Books were black and white in a world full of grey

  
Roji scowled as she picked up the book. At first glance she had mistaken it for one of Mizuira's, but closer inspection showed that it was the brat's, probably stolen from the bookstore in town. There was no way the stupid girl could read such a big book when Mizuira was just mastering her ABCs.

It was a collection of fairy tales, the same stories that Roji told Mizuira at night before bed. The brat must have taken it for the pictures. The cover was a beautiful image of a young girl in a red cloak, and interspaced throughout were detailed illustrations of the different stories.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Roji as she flipped through the pages. She stopped at one of the tales and scanned the story. Her eyes widened as she reached the ending. Instead of the version she was familiar with, the evil queen was forced to dance wearing red-hot iron shoes until she died.

" _ROBIN_!" Roji screamed. A few seconds later the girl descended down the stairs, having the audacity to look confused.

"Yes, Auntie?" she asked.

"What is this?!" Roji said, brandishing the book like a weapon.

"I-It's mine. The professor said I could borrow it."

Roji didn't know who this 'professor' was, and she didn't particularly care. "Then what is doing out here?" she snarled. "I've told you a thousand times, stupid brat, to clean up after yourself!"

Roji threw the book down in disgust, glaring daggers as the girl picked it up and cradled it in her arms as if it were a priceless treasure.

***

Nico Robin could not remember a time when she could not read. One of her first memories was sneaking off to the library to hide from her family. Even at that age Robin knew that the Tree of Knowledge was a safe place, a haven from the cruelties that followed her wherever she went.

The Tree was first and foremost a research center, and therefore did not carry any fiction in the traditional sense. There _were_ mythology and folk tales, and that was close enough. Stories of dragons and magic and heroes filled Robin's head with hope. She could escape into a world where the clever and resourceful prevailed against evil monsters to live happily ever after.

Mythology naturally lead to history and history to the Void Century. The mystery that surrounded the missing years reminded Robin of the old stories, and while she chiefly learned the ancient language so the archeologists would let her help with their research, there was a small part of her that believed if she was clever and resourceful enough she would find her happily ever after, too.

***

As an instructor, Professor Clover knew that he wasn't supposed to have favorites. A fair man would be impartial when dealing with those who sought to learn. A good teacher wouldn't spend a disproportionate amount of time with one student compared to the rest.

But when he saw a eight year old girl lying in the middle of the Tree of Knowledge with five dusty tomes that probably hadn't been opened in decades, Professor Clover found it impossible not to feel a surge of delight. If there were still children like this in the world then there was hope for the future.

"I read today that twenty-five to forty percent of the world is unexplored," Robin said. She had her head propped in her hands, a puzzled expression on her face. "Is that true?"

"I wouldn't know off the top of my head, dear, but it wouldn't surprise me," Clover said, hardly noticing when a disembodied hand turned the page of one of her books. He peered down at her reading material, which appeared to be different volumes of the same encyclopedia series. One was open to a picture of a glacier village in the far north, another detailed the cultures known in the Calm Belt, and a third described ruins found in some remote jungle. "Your focus seems scattered today. What are you thinking about?"

"There's a lot we don't know, isn't there?"

"Yes."

Robin frowned as she looked up at him for the first time. "We have thousands and thousands of books here about the places we've already discovered, and those aren't complete. If there are so many places we _do_ know we don't know, plus the things we _don't_ know we don't know, then how much of history is missing?"

"Quite a lot, I would imagine," Clover said, chuckling as Robin's frown deepened. "The world is a big place, dear. Don't allow yourself to be intimidated by it, and don't allow yourself to be limited by this one library. It is an archeologist's pride to go out into uncharted waters and untangle the knots that bind humanity together."

***

Reading opened up a world far beyond the shores of Ohara. Robin learned about places where ability users were as common as Roji's temper tantrums, lands where giants outnumbered humans, and secret oceans hidden away in the sky. Unlike the fairy tales she read as a little girl (for by the time she was eight years old Robin could hardly be called _little_ anymore) these stories were true.

Mermaids and dwarves and snake-necks _existed_. There were sea monsters big enough to eat entire ships. Somewhere on the Grand Line there was a man daring enough to build a train that could cross the ocean. The world was big and full of possibility, just waiting to be explored.

There were less pleasant things, of course. War, hatred, and bigotry had been a part history since its beginning. Robin learned from these things as well, how those who did not study the past were doomed to repeat it.

But what Robin wanted to learn most of all could not be found in her books. Maybe when she had unlocked the secret of the Void Century she could write her own.

***

It wasn't often that Crocodile caught Nico Robin off-guard, but this time he managed. Sitting by the window of his office with her nose in a book, she didn't notice a swirl of sand take the form of a man. It was a testament to how engrossed she was in her reading material when she actually flinched as the Warlord came up behind her and drug his hook lightly against her throat.

"Ha, ha, ha," Crocodile laughed as she snapped the book closed and gave him a murderous glare. "You should be more careful, Miss All Sunday. You never know when an assassin might sneak in." He set the rounded edge of his hook on her cheek. This time she did not flinch.

Crocodile sighed. The game was no fun if she wouldn't play along. "How are the plans coming along?"

"Fine," she said curtly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Crocodile let her pass, watching as she left the room. Crocodile was always watching Nico Robin, and she knew it. But she couldn't possibly realize what he saw.

She didn't know that he noticed the spark in her eye when she read. She didn't know his ear picked up the excitement in her voice when they discussed the Alabastian poneglyph. Nico Robin still had a dream, and she had no idea how much Crocodile hated her for it.

Soon Nico Robin would outlive her usefulness, and when that time came Crocodile would take great pleasure in eliminating her.

***

Books were black and white in a world of grey. There were absolutes in Robin's books that could never exist in reality. There were no what ifs because history was unchangeable.

It was a truth that was both comforting and terrifying as she struggled to survive in a world that wanted her dead.

***

Luffy was not a reader. Words were difficult and mysterious and most often boring. He didn't get why Robin spent so much time with only a book for company.

That was okay. There were many, _many_ things that Luffy didn't understand, and he accepted that. Robin's books were like his hat: a treasure that not everyone could appreciate. Besides, every once in a while Robin would read out loud to the crew, sharing a little bit with her friends what was obviously so important to her.

Sometimes Luffy wondered if she had ever had anyone to share with before, before deciding that didn't matter either. The Straw Hat Pirates would give Robin what she needed. It had taken her a long time to realize what Luffy knew all along, and now she was free to pursue what she loved.

It started small - a determined promise to fill the library of the _Sunny_ , late nights untangling old legends in search of a new adventure, a genuine smile when presented with a new book. Lots of little changes came together into one startling truth: Robin was a Straw Hat Pirate.

***

For a long time Robin's only friends were books. They gave her everything that people would not: companionship on a lonely night, comfort when she was hurting, a place to escape when the world threatened to overwhelm her. Robin's books never abandoned her, never betrayed her trust. Books were safe.

But they could not give her what she needed, and over the years Robin retreated further into herself. The written word became another defense, part of her façade of disinterest and apathy.

Something changed when she stowed away on the Straw Hat's ship. Their captain was undeniably an idiot, but the others were surprisingly well-versed in their respective fields. Not since Ohara had she been able to interact with true intellectuals, and she found herself enjoying their company.

Robin learned from the Straw Hats. They taught her how to laugh again, how to live again, and suddenly there was no reason to hide any more.

Robin would always be a reader. She would hear the voices of the generations that came before and seek out the histories that had been lost. The difference was this time she didn't have to do it alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you believe Robin read the One Piece equivalent of the Brothers Grimm as a kid. The original ending of Snow White seemed appropriately morbid, so I borrowed it for this chapter


	8. Physical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chopper assesses Robin for the first time, and Robin learns that there's more to the Straw Hat Pirates than meets the eye.

****

Robin was sunning herself on the deck of the _Going Merry_ enjoying the company of a good book when she sensed to presence of someone behind her. She didn't even need to use her power to know it was the little doctor. The reindeer's stealth skills were…subpar to say the least.

"Can I help you, Doctor?" she asked without looking up from her reading material.

"Eek!" he screeched as he ducked behind a crate, backwards of course. Robin waited for the doctor to gather himself, and after a moment he approached her again.

"Um…I was wondering, if, sometime if we could…I mean if you would let me-" he sputtered. Robin raised an eyebrow, causing the doctor to gulp loudly.

"I need to give you a physical," he finally managed. Robin's eyebrow raised another notch, and he gulped again.

"A physical," she repeated slowly.

The navigator came out from her tangerine trees. She leaned her pruners against the wall and took a seat next to the archeologist. Robin suspected that the girl had heard the conversation and was trying to stick her nose in where it didn't belong.

"Yeah," the doctor continued, his nervousness gone with the presence of the navigator, "I need a baseline on you in case anything bad happens. Not that anything bad would happen to you, 'cause you're strong…but just in case."

"It's not that big of a deal. Chopper's very professional," the navigator added with a sly wink. Robin glanced between the two of them and shut her book.

"Of course, Doctor. Is now a good time for you?" Robin asked.

"Sure! I've got my stuff all ready. Do you remember where my office is?" he said with more enthusiasm than was warranted.

Robin had thoroughly examined the little infirmary (along with the rest of the ship) when she had first stowed away, but saying so would be impolite. So the archeologist allowed the doctor to lead her, curiosity edging her on.

* * *

"Pulse 77, blood pressure 112/72, respirations 12, temperature 98.2…" the doctor muttered to himself as he noted down Robin's vital signs. Robin couldn't help but smile a little at the reindeer's attitude. She had been on a great many pirate ships, and none of the doctors had ever actually been competent. After all, how many medical professionals would be willing to throw away lucrative careers to become outlaws? The answer was not many.

"Okay, now I'm going to listen to your lungs and heart…" he continued as he placed the stethoscope to her chest. The doctor frowned, and took the instrument out of his ears. He changed forms, turning his more humanoid shape. Now having the advantage of hands, he felt the area right beside her heart where she had been stabbed by Crocodile. Confusion flickered across his face as he examined the old wound. Robin forced herself not to wince as the doctor prodded the still very tender flesh.

"Robin, what happened?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"That's where Crocodile stabbed me, Doctor. I'm sure the captain's told you already."

"No, he didn't!" he exclaimed. "Crocodile _stabbed_ you? When? A-and how?"

"In the Royal Tombs, and with his hook of course. I received aid in Alubarna after the captain rescued the king and me. There's no reason to worry; it's healing quite nicely," Robin replied, nonplussed at the doctor's distress. The look of sheer horror on his face almost made Robin chuckle as he ordered her to show him the wound. Robin obeyed, and the doctor carefully peeled back the layers of bandages that she still wore.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the doctor asked as he examined where she had been stabbed. Robin would have thought he sounded hurt, offended even, had the notion not been ridiculous. What reason did she have in telling these people about her weakness? With her power reapplying bandages was easy, and she _was_ healing. Now it only hurt to take deep breaths, and she almost had full range of motion back in her arm.

"Honestly, I thought you already knew," Robin replied.

"Of course I didn't know, or I would have looked at it myself! You could have cardiac temponade, or a pulmonary embolism, or…or hemothorax!" he exclaimed.

"Surely if any of those things had happened I would be dead by now."

"That's not the point! I'm the doctor! I need to make sure everyone's healthy, and that includes knowing when someone's been stabbed! You're not going to be like Zoro, are you?" he asked, clearly worried at the thought.

"I wasn't planning on it," Robin said.

"Good. It's hard enough to deal with him as it is," he said with a small sigh.

"I apologize for causing you undue distress."

"That's okay.." He paused to jot some more notes down in her file. "You really know what cardiac temponade is?" he asked.

"Yes," Robin replied with a small smile.

As the doctor continued her physical (okay, swallow for me. Now walk in a straight line. Grab both my hands and squeeze) the pair had a pleasant conversation about various medical things. He was thrilled that there was someone else he could talk to without having to dumb down the language or explain all the words.

And despite herself, Robin enjoyed the discussion. The doctor was naïve, but there was no doubting his intelligence. Apparently he had been trained on Drum Island by one of its most experienced practitioners. He could easily become rich serving royalty with his skills, but instead had chosen to follow Monkey D. Luffy on his fool's journey to become the Pirate King.

After he finished Robin stood to take her leave. His nervousness around her was gone. Robin knew that the doctor had taken the time as some sort of bonding experience. It was unfortunate, but perhaps inevitable considering the doctor's nature. Robin had to be more careful - building attachments now would make the eventual betrayals that much more difficult. Before she left, however, Robin had to ask one question that had been bothering her since joining the Straw Hats.

"Doctor, why did you join the captain?" she inquired. He paused his writing and looked up at her.

"Because he invited me, I guess," he said. "Luffy didn't care that I was a monster, and he doesn't think my dream's stupid, and he's my friend. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, I was just curious," Robin replied.

"Oh, okay," he said before tapping his pen on his desk in thought. "Luffy thinks I can be the best doctor, and he knows I can find a cure for every disease."

Robin blinked in surprise. "Is that your dream, being the greatest doctor in the world?"

"There's no disease that can't be cured," he replied, as if quoting.

With a small nod, Robin left the doctor to his notes.

* * *

 

Out on the decks of the _Merry_ life was continuing as usual. The cook was swooning over the navigator, the swordsman was lifting weights, and Longnose was entertaining the captain with a story. You couldn't tell by looking that they had recently defeated one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea and saved a country from a devastating civil war.

But there was more to this crew than met the eye. The captain with the 'D' initial and his collection of dreamers were set on a course for greatness, and they had invited her along for the ride. They ignored obstacles and laughed at the concept of 'impossible'.

Robin decided that after she was fully recovered she would leave them. The doctor was incorrect. There were some pains that simply could not be healed. That didn't mean that the darkness that haunted her had to spread to this little crew.

"Healthy?" the navigator asked as she saw Robin approach. Robin gave her a nod before picking up her book as the cook lavished her in praise and offered a delicious snack. She accepted with a small smile before opening to the page where she had left off.

A couple minutes later the doctor came out of his infirmary with a silly grin on his face. He quickly joined the captain and Longnose in a rowdy game, eventually pulling in the swordsman along with them. The noise continued to escalate until the navigator took it upon herself to restore order.

They were all very odd, this pirate crew. Robin was sure that she was watching history in the making as these _children_ nonchalantly saved entire countries, surviving things that should have killed them twenty times over in the name of adventure and friendship.

Robin resolved to study them. They, proving that common sense wasn't all that common, already trusted her. It should be easy, to understand these people and why they continued to dream.

But it wasn't. They continued to confound her with their acceptance, and not being able to understand frustrated her immensely. For some reason they cared, not just about each other, but about her.

The concept was both alien and frightening.

Robin sat reading her book, and all the while watching her crewmates with a horrible fascination that was probably unhealthy. Beside her the navigator chattered about the state of the world, pausing only to bark the occasional order.

Presently she felt the doctor's nervous presence behind her. Robin turned to face the reindeer, polite mask in place.

"Um, you seemed really interested in the herbs we were talking about, so if you want I'll let you borrow this," he said as he handed her a book. Robin was touched at the gesture, and she could feel the navigator's smile beside her.

"That's very kind of you, Doctor," she replied as she accepted his gift. The doctor beamed before running off back to the others.

Yes, the Straw Hat Pirates were very odd, not to mention confusing and just plain different. But that did not mean that they were bad, and as Robin flipped through the doctor's book with a small smile she thought this chapter of her life would be quite enjoyable while it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone doesn't know cardiac temponade is blood filling the sac around the heart, hemothorax is blood filling the sac around the lungs, and pulmonary embolism is a blockage (probably caused by a dislodged clot) of the main arteries of the lungs. All are deadly without proper treatment and could potentially be caused by a stab to the chest. The more you know!


	9. The Sea of Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memorial of the past offers Robin a chance to flip a Government agent towards Dragon's cause. Set during the timeskip.

" _What is your status?"_

Robin ignored the question as she donned a pair of sunglasses and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair—longer now than ever before in her life—was pulled back into a simple braid. Her usual dark, revealing clothing had been replaced with nondescript khakis and a t-shirt. She looked like a tourist and, more importantly, nothing like her bounty picture.

Even so, she turned to every side looking for some damning feature that would give her away. Caution was a virtue in these situations, especially since she was diving into enemy territory.

" _Answer the snail, Agent. I know you're there."_

Would her face give her away? Robin rubbed her long nose and briefly considered wearing a scarf, before discarding the idea. The covering would only draw more attention…

" _Robin!"_

Unable to ignore the den-den mushi any longer, Robin picked up the receiver. "Yes, Mr. Revolutionary?" she asked sweetly.

" _Look, I know you're technically not a part of the Revolution, but there are regulations to follow. You need to pick up when I call."_

"And you need to trust me," Robin said patiently. "I've done this sort of work before."

" _I know, but that was before, and…"_

"Sabo, please. I realize this is my first solo mission, but I don't need babysitting."

" _I know, but…"_

"But nothing, Mr. Revolutionary," Robin interrupted, a hint of steel in her voice. "I will get the information you need, one way or another."

" _This isn't an assassination attempt, Agent_ " Sabo exclaimed loudly enough to make Robin pull the receiver away from her ear. " _We need to make friends here, not enemies. The boss has tried pulling this off three times already, and has been unsuccessful each time._ "

Robin laughed quietly at his distress. "Perhaps all that's needed is a woman's touch. I'll call as soon as I have news."

Without waiting for a response Robin hung up the den-den mushi. It was sweet of him to worry, but she wasn't concerned. If the Revolution had unsuccessfully attempted to bring this particular individual to their side three times without the marines getting involved, then she doubted they would be alerted this time around.

After one last glance in the mirror, Robin went above deck. Despite its historical significance, she had never before stepped on Letum Island, and she wanted to do some sightseeing before her rendezvous with the Archivist.

* * *

Letum Island was a fall island located on a little-known, out of the way section of the Grand Line. It had the reputation for being perpetually dreary, but Robin was glad to see that today was a pleasant exception, and the sun managed to shine despite a stiff wind.

The marine base at Letum was one of the first casualties of the Great Pirate Era. Caught unawares by the effect of Roger's death, it was completely razed in the first surge of pirates that flooded the Grand Line in search of One Piece. There were no survivors, and no building could be salvaged. Rumor spread that the grounds were haunted by the deceased sailors, pervasive enough to spook the contractors hired to rebuild. No one would step foot on the island, and it seemed like Letum was fated to fade into obscurity.

Newly promoted Fleet Admiral Sengoku would have nothing of it. Refusing to allow pirates to have the last word, Sengoku declared Letum hallowed ground and began plans for constructing a memorial. The result was what Robin saw as she stepped onto dry ground.

A large black wall circled around nearly the entire island. Sun glinted off gabbro stone, forcing Robin to pull her sunglasses over her eyes. The wall was not terribly tall, but it carried a presence that demanded respect.

"You here t' see the Sea of Grass?" a dockhand asked as Robin stepped off the ship. The Revolutionaries she had sailed with glared with distrust, but Robin shook her head slightly, and they backed down.

"In a manner of speaking," she answered politely. "I'm looking for a name."

She could not see it from the pier, but engraved on the Wall was the name of every marine killed in action since the execution of Gold Roger. A small town was settled around the harbor, the only sign of civilization to be found. Letum was first and foremost a historical site, and with the memorial taking up so much room there was very little space leftover to build. With travel on the Grand Line as dangerous as it was, very few dared to brave the seas towards a gloomy island for no reason but to remember the past.

More the pity, Robin thought. She detested the World Government and all it stood for, but in this instance she could see that the effort was well worth the cost.

"Ah," the man said with a knowing nod. "In that case, I'd suggest findin' a hotel for the night. Dark comes early 'round these parts, 'n dark's not a good time for a lady t' be wanderin' about."

"Oh?"

"I'm not a superstitious man, but there're stories, ya know?" He smiled sheepishly. "I'd hate t' hear about a ghost snatchin' away a pretty lady like yourself."

"And I do not particularly want to be snatched," Robin agreed. She turned to her traveling companions. "Why don't you find us a place to board for the night? I'll be in before dark. I'd like to at least start looking today."

"But…" one young Revolutionary began to argue. Robin cut him off with a cold glare. They were only here as her protection duty, Robin knew, but she did not need protecting. She would not have agreed to their presence at all, except it would be impractical for her to sail the ship by herself.

"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly, shrugging a bag higher on his shoulder before addressing the dockhand. "Is there a place you'd recommend?"

The helpful islander began to give directions, and Robin took her leave. She had been burning with curiosity ever since Dragon offered her this opportunity. Mission aside, there  _was_  something she hoped to find, and this might be her only chance to seek it out.

* * *

The Wall made up half of the memorial. At the end of each year some poor soul had the morbid task of complying the name of all the marines who had been killed in action. Those names were then divided into five sections, one for each of the Blues and the Grand Line. Within each section, names were listed alphabetically. There were no ranks or accolades, just names. Whoever these men and women had been in life, they were now connected by death for a common cause.

Most of the memorial was empty, shiny black stone that waited patiently for the year it, too, would be engraved. Robin wondered how many decades it would take until the names came full circle.

She walked slowly to the first panel, marked the year of Roger's death. Twenty…no, twenty-one years had passed since then. The beginning of the Golden Age of Piracy overshadowed the tragedy of the Buster Call, though they occurred in the same year. While Robin alone remembered the names and faces of the massacred innocents, at least there was a place on the memorial for the marines who fell that day.

 _Too many through friendly fire_ , Robin thought sadly. There had been marines on the civilian ship destroyed by Admiral Akainu's senseless attack. Robin quickly scanned the names listed under the West Blue.  _Jadd, Matthew; Jael, Trex; Jaffman, Ross_ ;  _Jahde, Lynn…_

"Hmm, such a melancholy face for one so young."

Robin had not sensed a presence behind her. She turned, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. An extraordinarily old man stood behind her, clenching a walking stick for support. Years had added a stoop to his back. That, along with the tired look in his eye, gave him the appearance of one burdened with an immense weight.

"There are some things that should be reflected on seriously," she answered.

"And unusual wisdom, to boot," the man said, nodding in approval. His voice came out in a dry croak, as if he spent too much time in a dusty room. "Have you visited the Sea of Grass?"

"Not as of yet, no."

"Ah. Then allow this old man the pleasure of showing it to you. The view at sunset is magnificent."

"I was warned not to stay out after dark for fear of ghosts," Robin said even as she took his offered arm.

"There are some ghosts who shouldn't be forgotten, Miss Nico," he said quietly.

"I don't recall giving you my name, Mr. Archivist," Robin said as he guided her along a pathway.

"Nor you mine, and yet it seems we are already introduced. Life is curious that way sometimes."

They came to a gate in the Wall—one of five, representing each sea—protected by two marines in full dress. They were the sentinels of the monument, an honor guard for their deceased brothers in arms. The Archivist paid them no heed and walked through the opening into the Sea of Grass.

If the Wall of Names was a tribute to those killed in action, the Sea of Grass was a memorial to those lost at sea. Each of the five gates in the Wall was the beginning of a different path. The shortest was only a few miles; the longest was a two-day trek across the entire island. Aside from the trails there was only grass. It grew to about waist height, and the wind rippled through it in a way that was reminiscent of the ocean.

Robin paused, taking in the sight. The only noise was the soft rustle of grass and the chirp of crickets. The tourists had left for the day, leaving only Robin, the Archivist, and the guards at the gate.

"There is a bench a little farther in," the Archivist said. "We can rest there in peace."

"We won't be asked to leave for staying past visiting hours?" Robin asked, giving a significant look to the marines standing at attention.

"They will not leave their post unless they have a reason to believe someone is causing a disturbance."

It did not take them long to reach the bench. The Archivist sat first, his knees making an arthritic popping noise that made Robin wince. He patted the empty space beside him, and Robin sat.

"It truly does remind me of the ocean," Robin said, with a nod to the grass that surrounded them. "The designers did their job well."

"That they did. They say each blade of grass represents a man lost at sea," the Archivist said. "Although I doubt you came to pay respect to the dead."

"I doubt I'm welcome here. Not when I'm personally responsible for so many engravings on the Wall."

"And yet here you are." The playfulness had left his voice, and he sighed. "I am an old man, Miss Nico. I can't imagine what you want from me."

Robin paused a moment, thinking about how she wanted to answer. "I want nothing at all. I find your current venture completely satisfactory. The one who sent me, he's the one who's interested in your ability."

"Ability," the Archivist scoffed. "Don't make me laugh."

"There are precious few historians left," Robin said quietly. "Information is a powerful thing."

"And as I've told those who came before you, my work is  _here_. These are the ones who need my skills." He gestured to the wall. "Good men and women have died because of politics. I refuse to get involved."

"And how much of those politics have been set forth by a corrupt government?"

The Archivist laughed, a harsh, barking sound that was surprisingly bitter. "Don't try and take the high road, girl. The coups the Revolution cause are far bloodier than anything the Government has done."

"Ohara begs to differ. You should know that better than anybody. You knew the Professor Clover, did you not?"

"That was a long time ago."

"Every credible historian of your generation has spent time at the Tree of Knowledge, whether they were officially aligned with the archeologists there or not. It held the single largest repository of knowledge outside of the Archives of Mariejois. Do you believe they deserved to die as they did?" Robin asked.

The Archivist was silent.

"The fact that you haven't alerted the marines of Dragon's previous attempts to recruit you is very telling," Robin continued. "It makes one wonder if perhaps there is an argument that will persuade you."

"You mistake sympathy for desire," the Archivist said. "The Revolution's ideal is noble, but I have no wish to take part. I have seen no proof that Dragon's new world will be any different than the one we live in today."

"So you would rather continue with the status quo?"

"Versus an unknown future? Absolutely." The Archivist leaned back and stared at the darkening sky. "We are students of history, Miss Nico. You should know that rebellions do not end well, and oftentimes the new regime becomes worse than the last."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Have you studied Dragon's model?"

"Yes, and it's very well thought-out. However, I also see how it's not always put into practice. Have you heard of Arkham Island?"

"It does sound familiar," Robin said.

"It's a small island in the East, one of the first countries Dragon 'liberated'." The Archivist shook his head in disgust. "It's become a pit. Anarchy, mass killings…it's been fifteen years, and there is no sign of order."

"Dragon would be the first to admit that he has not always been successful, especially at the beginning," she said, stomach churning at the Arkham's fate. "However, that is but one extreme example. There are dozens of success stories. You would never know it, because the Government has a monopoly on the news outlets."

"Perhaps, but at least with the World Government the power is spread amongst several individuals. Who's to say that Dragon won't attempt to become some sort of dictator? I won't risk it."

Robin was silent for a moment. "I can see that your mind's set," she said slowly, raising to her feet. "I would ask you to take some things under consideration."

"Anything for a fellow historian," the Archivist said.

"Slavery has been illegal for centuries, and yet it continues to be practiced. Even the World Government uses slave labor to fund projects they would prefer stay secret."

The Archivist's brows furrowed together. "I've not heard of this."

"Then I suggest you look into your documents on Tequila Wolf," Robin said. "And while you do, ponder this: What sort of government is scared enough of the past that they're willing to destroy whole islands to ensure their secrets never see the light of day?"

"Tequila Wolf...I'm not familiar with that name. Was it a mission?" he said.

"A labor camp," Robin said, keeping her voice low, "building a bridge to nowhere for eight hundred years."

What little color he had left the Archivist's pale cheeks. He wasn't so far gone to forget the significance of that date.

"You've given me much to think about," the Archivist said gravely.

"That's all I ask," Robin said. She turned to leave, before pausing. "One more thing. Your Wall is missing a name."

"What?"

"There was a marine who died twenty-one years ago saving a little girl from certain death," Robin said quietly as she looked out to the Sea of Grass. A blade for every marine lost at sea. It was almost impossible to imagine so many lives wasted, the incalculable grief experienced by their friends and families. At least they were remembered in some small way.

"And his name?" the Archivist asked.

"Jaguar D. Saul." Robin swallowed hard, and took a deep breath, offering the elderly man a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there will be people waiting for my return."

* * *

" _What is your status?"_

"We only talked once, but I wouldn't be surprised if Dragon heard from the Archivist soon."

" _And why do you say that?"_  It was impossible to miss the excitement in Sabo's voice.

Robin smiled and recalled the most recent addition to the Wall of Names, carefully carved into the first panel with all the others who died twenty-one years ago. She had almost missed it while taking a final look at the monument before departure. It was obviously engraved by an amateur, but lovingly placed nonetheless by someone who genuinely desired to make the marine's sacrifice known to the next generation.

"Call it a woman's intuition."


	10. Now Hiring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss All Sunday was playing a dangerous game against an even more dangerous opponent. With Alabasta and Baroque Works caught in the middle of their struggle for power the slightest misstep could ruin the lives of millions. One bold step would introduce a new player, but at what cost?

Nico Robin sat at the Spider Café, waiting patiently to start a day of interviews. A gaping hole within Baroque Works had just opened up after both the ex-Miss Wednesday and the ex-Mr. 8 had been killed. Their ill-advised tryst (which was explicitly forbidden by company policy for just this reason) had caused a catastrophic failure in a mission that had nearly blown the cover off of the entire Baroque Work's operation.

The whole mess had been a huge headache and a mountain of paperwork. There was a good chance that during the pair's run as frontier agents they had caused several security breaches in an attempt to hide their relationship. To Robin this meant that there was a distinct possibility that  _someone_   _somewhere_  knew about Baroque Work's plan to overthrow the current monarchy.

To prevent similar situations, Crocodile had gone ahead and hired the Unluckies, but as far as he was concerned the breach never should have happened in the first place. When the Warlord had heard the news Robin  had thought he was going to kill everything in the room. Even now, four days later, he was taking his foul mood out on the pirates that had the misfortune of docking on the island.

The absence of the two agents left serious holes in the Baroque Works system that needed to be filled as quickly as possible. After pouring over possible candidates, Robin had picked a handful to interview. Two promising hopefuls were set to arrive any moment. Robin glanced through their file, eager to meet them in person. Their recent entrance to the company was worrisome, but their record thus far was impeccable. It would be a disservice to the company--and thus Robin's own goals--not to hear what they had to say for themselves.

"Another coffee Paula, if you don't mind," she said to the woman manning the bar. Paula obliged her with a nod before returning to her work. Robin smiled to herself before taking a sip. Miss Doublefinger had been quite the find and one of Robin's greatest successes, outstripping even the eccentric Mr. 2's undercover skills. It didn't hurt that she made a good partner for the notoriously difficult Mr. 1. It had been the intelligence gained by Miss Doublefinger that revealed the duplicity of the ex-Miss Wednesday and Mr. 8, and her mastery of her Devil Fruit that removed the problem from the equation.

Right on time, the door opened and two people entered the little café. Robin put on her most professional smile and turned to greet the would-be agents…

Only to almost kill them on sight.

Before her stood the Princess of Alabasta and the Captain of the Royal Guard. Who apparently were members of Baroque Works and were working their way up the ranks. Presumably to interfere in ways that would be problematic to Robin's goals.

Oh dear.

* * *

The interview went smoothly. The girl was obviously nervous, but answered the questions intelligently. The captain didn't say much, but had a steady presence that indicated strength and diligence. They were most certainly strong candidates for the agent positions. At the end of the interview Robin thanked them for their time, and promised to get back to them with her decision within the next couple of days.

The morning wore on, and candidates came and went. None of them left quite the impression that the princess and the captain did. After she was finished she sat back with a final cup of coffee before heading back to the capital.

"Those first two were the best, in my opinion," Paula said as she wiped down her tables.

"Hm. You think so?" Robin asked, genuinely interested in the other woman's opinion.

"Yeah, the others were just so…meh. The first ones, they'd do anything to finish a job."

"I agree," Miss All Sunday murmured into her cup, deep in thought.

* * *

Back in Alubarna Robin had quite the conundrum on her hands. What to do with the little princess and her loyal dog. There were multiple paths open to her, but she knew that picking the wrong one would lead to her own demise.

The whole situation would have been avoided had the hiring agencies done their job properly. While blue hair had been a popular fashion choice since the birth of the princess, since the onset of the drought it had fallen out of style. While the princess's makeup and style of dress made her look older than she actually was, the captain hadn't changed his distinctive appearance at all. Obviously the problem of Baroque Work's security was bigger than originally thought.

But what was done was done. Dealing with her employee's incompetence would have to wait; right now Robin was scheming. As she finished some paperwork she began to put a plan together, giving serious consideration to allowing the pair to continue on their little crusade to save their doomed country.

The benefit was obvious. The anonymity of Mr. 0 was crucial to the success of his plans, so Crocodile did not interact with his agents directly. This left Robin as a go between the agents and their mysterious boss. He would never know that the monarchy had infiltrated the organization.

In addition, all of the current high ranking agents were not from Alabasta. As well as preventing a conflict of interest, this allowed for a greater variety of skills throughout Baroque Works. With Robin in charge of all important promotions, she could insure that the princess and her guard were always paired with someone who wouldn't recognize them. There was risk involved, but it was manageable.

And what would she gain? For one, knowing the identity of the spies made it possible for Robin to directly control what information the Alabastian government had about any given situation. More importantly, though, was the element of the unknown. After years of working with Crocodile, Robin had discovered that he was clever and ruthless enough that his plans would never fail by conventional means. And Crocodile's plan failing was crucial to her own survival. It would take a spectacular, unpredictable event to derail the Warlord's vision.

Something like a plucky princess infiltrating an evil organization for the sake of her country.

Besides, the princess would be forced to perform each of their missions to the best of their ability in an attempt to please Baroque Works. With Alabasta itself backing them, they would have remarkable resources at their disposal. There was a certain irony in a princess inadvertently help destroy her own country that appealed to the morbid sense of humor in Robin.

Yes…promoting the princess had many advantages.

* * *

"From now on you will be known as Miss Wednesday and you as Mr. 8. Here are your new partners, Mr. 9 and Miss Monday. I suggest you get to know each other; you will be given your new assignments within the week. If you have any questions, you can direct them towards me, as Mr. 0 is a very busy man who does not like to be disturbed by trivial matters," Robin said to the four men and women before her.

"Wait! I thought I was going to be partners with, uh, Miss Wednesday," the new Mr. 8 said as he adjusted the strap to his saxophone.

"It has been determined that your abilities are better complimented by your new partners. While there is a chance the four of you will work in close proximity to one another, it is for the good of the company that you are split," she replied in a cool tone that left no room for compromise. The two Alabastians gave each other a worried glance before sizing up their new partners.

"If that is all, you are dismissed," Robin said before leaving the new partners to themselves.

The first part of her plan complete, the only thing left was to patiently wait for her opportunity to strike. Reveal Crocodile's plans to soon and she risked her only chance at Alabasta's poneglyph, but wait too long the princess's information would become useless.

Robin was playing a dangerous game against an even more dangerous opponent. With Alabasta and Baroque Works caught in the middle of their struggle for power the slightest misstep could ruin the lives of millions.

And with one bold move, Robin had introduced a new player.

She could only hope it was the right decision.


	11. First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin learned the hard way that it was kill or be killed. There was no middle ground when the whole world wanted you dead.

"Welcome to Canidae! My name is Docga. May I help you, take your bags perhaps?"

Hubert St. Caius looked at the large, enthusiastic man in shabby clothes with slight distaste. St. Caius had just stepped off of his ship, and he was already being hounded by the people of Canidae. The civilians here, like the dogs they bred, were tenacious and had boundless energy. Admirable traits really, but annoying considering the circumstances.

"If you're so willing to help, why don't you take all this?" came a sneer from behind him. Edwin Couteulx, bounty hunter in training, shoved his bags at the hapless man. St. Caius fought the urge to smack himself in the face. Silently he prayed that he wouldn't kill the idiot before the boy's preceptorship ended. If successful this would be their last job together, thank God, and already he was counting the days before they could part ways.

The feeling was mutual.

"Edwin," he sighed, "we are here on business. You will carry your own bags."

The boy glared at him before taking his bags back with a huff. St. Caius gave Docga a small tip to send him on his way, and the pair entered the rainy city.

The hunt had begun.

* * *

"Dereshishishi! Sorry I have no food."

The little mutt dog wagged his tail as Robin huddled underneath a tree, trying her best to stay out of the rain. She was glad for his company after being forced to run yet again from people who had offered her safety. It had been months since Ohara died, and Robin had yet to find the people Saul promised. She knew she couldn't keep going from house to house, constantly being chased by the marines. Even if people were nice to start with, once they saw her bounty it was always the same. This time around she didn't even have anything to show for her efforts, and after a long night was cold, wet, and tired.

But she could deal with that. The real problem was that she was once again left without any shelter or sustenance. With the winter months fast approaching, Robin would have to think of a plan. She could deal with that too, but right now preferred the company of the little mutt with the wiggly tail.

Seeing that she had no food to offer, the little dog sauntered off with the swagger of a prized hound. Robin couldn't help but giggle at the sight. Then she wiped her eyes to clear the water away (rain, not tears. She didn't cry any more. Crying was useless and didn't solve anything) before heading to her secret spot.

She had found the little hideaway her first night on the island, before beginning to stay with Nigeratta. It was a good place to set camp, with a river to her back for protection and water and a small grove of trees for shelter. It was close enough to town to have easy access to supplies, but far enough away so that she could see if anyone came towards her.

It would be important to keep a good lookout. Canidae was famous for their dogs, including scent and sight hounds. Robin had only stayed on the island with Nigeratta to begin with because he and the law didn't exactly see eye to eye. The work she had done for him hadn't been legal, per say, but he had given her a bed to sleep in and food to eat in exchange.

The rain gave no sign of stopping, and Robin was soon soaked to the bone. Once it got dark she would have to back and steal some clothes, otherwise she would be in for another cold night. Robin crouched underneath the tree that gave the most protection and watched the river roar down to the ocean. In her mind's eye she brought up a map of the area. There was an island to the south and another to the northwest that were large enough to hide in while being close enough to safely sail to. If staying with other people wouldn't work she would have to try and survive by herself. The concept was daunting, but Robin figured that it gave her the best possible chance of survival.

* * *

"Old man, you're really cramping my style here! We know where the mark is, let's just go mess some shit up and leave this lame little backwater island!" Edwin shouted while St. Caius pretended he didn't exist. He carefully unpacked his belongings and putting them into their proper places. The hotel they were staying at was comfortable but cheap, and they had a hot meal waiting for them downstairs.

"Are you even listening to me? I've been with you for six months now, and you still don't even pay attention to my opinions. I can't wait to be done with this piece of shit preceptorship. I'm ready to be licensed  _now_ , but you're just dragging this out so you can get more reimbursement from the government," Edwin accused, shoving his finger into his mentor's chest.

"I would suggest you move your finger from my personal space if you don't want it forcibly removed from your hand,  _boy_ ," St. Caius growled. "The reason I don't listen to your opinions is because they're likely to get you  _killed_. Hunting bounties is not a game. Since Roger's death more and more pirates have gone out to sea, murdering and pillaging in a sick survival of the fittest where only the strongest live to fight another day. You must outwit them; beat them at their own game if you want to keep your throat intact. Even then there's no guarantee that you'll see another sunrise. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Edwin's face twisted into a grin and gave a deep chuckle, "You know what? You may be called the Bloodhound, but you're really just another old man. Outwit 'em? Beat 'em at their own game? Give me a break. All that matters is your strength pitted against theirs. That, old man, is the era we live in. You're nothin' more than ancient history. All I need is my sword and a target, 'cause there ain't no piece of shit pirate that's gonna beat me!"

St. Caius's face turned an ugly red color as Edwin's grin grew. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and seconds felt like minutes until he finally got himself under enough control where he felt like he wouldn't strangle the idiot.

" _Fine_ ," he managed to spit out. "If you feel that way, you take lead. I'll not interfere one way or the other. It's your test, your hunt. You know who the mark is; the glory is yours for the taking."

A feral look passed over Edwin's face as he grabbed his sword and cloak. He barely paused to give St. Caius a second glance before leaving the room, rudely slamming the door behind him.

St. Caius looked out the window and into the darkening sky and rubbed his temples. There would be death tonight, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

* * *

The owners of the inn, a Mr. and Mrs. Coren were going about their business when the young man (Edward? Eddard? The name escaped them at the moment) who had arrived earlier in the day rushed down the stairs from his second story room and out the door front door. The older gentleman soon followed at a much more reasonable pace and apologized to the bewildered couple. Apparently the pair were not going to be available for dinner. He paused to scratch the ugly stray that wandered about, and bade them a good evening.

The couple never saw either of them ever again.

* * *

Using the cover of darkness Robin snuck through Canidae's shopping district. Most of the reputable shops were closed, their owners long since gone home. Rain still fell in droves, hampering visibility. Robin was the only one out in the streets, the weather too foul for even the dogs. She was thankful for it, as it made the job of breaking and entering much easier.

Nigeratta had begun to teach Robin the art of lock picking, even going far enough to give her a beginner's set. It was a useful skill, and when combined with her Devil Fruit's power meant that no door was ever truly closed. Robin peered through the darkness, making sure she wasn't being watched, and silently entered a small shop that sold second hand clothes and other necessities for cheap. She came in through the back door and stumbled through the store. Even if keeping a lantern lit was possible in this weather there was no way she was going to risk getting caught by bringing a light source with her.

Eventually Robin found what she was looking for: a new set of functional clothes and (more importantly) a rain coat. There was even a pair of shoes that were only a little too big. Robin used the cover of the store to change before shucking her wet things into a sack. Mission accomplished, she left the store. It would have been impossible for her to completely clean up the mess she had made, so she didn't even bother to try. It wouldn't matter if the owner of the store knew they had been robbed. Robin planned on being long gone by the time anyone noticed.

Outside, the wind shrieked. Robin lifted the hood of her new rain coat and headed towards the seedier part of the city. It was time to procure some food for her long-suffering stomach, and the bars were always good for dumpster diving without the risk of running into someone sober enough to care about her identity.

Somewhere in the city a dog started to howl, and Robin suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

* * *

From the corner of the bar St. Caius watched as the foolish boy barged in to directly challenge the notorious first mate of the Snaggle Tooth Pirates, Maximillian "The Dreaded" Linnaeus. Linnaeus was unique among pirates, because his bounty was actually larger than his captain's.

Maximillian looked Edwin Couteulx up and down with a smug grin before putting out his cigarette and starting the biggest bar fight the island had ever seen.

St. Caius sat back on his haunches and watched the scene unfold. If nothing else the boy had guts.

* * *

At first Robin had ignored the shouts coming from the bar. But they kept getting louder and louder as more and more people joined the brawl. She used her power to peek inside, only to watch the chaos with morbid curiosity. It was impossible to tell who was fighting who, or what had started the fight, or who (if anyone) was winning. The owner's large dogs had even entered the fray, and there was enough noise to upset every beast in the area.

Robin took her cue to leave when the Officers of the Peace arrived, a sure sign that the marines were sure to follow. She hadn't got all she wanted to eat, but had managed to scrounge enough to hold her stomach over for now. Carefully Robin slunk away, blending into the night.

* * *

From his spot in the corner, St. Caius was doing his best not to get stepped on. Things were getting out of hand, and he didn't want to be around when the bar got accidentally blown up or something equally annoying. The only good thing about the situation was that Edwin had so far managed to keep himself alive. The boy wasn't worth the paperwork that would have to be done if he got himself killed.

The bounty hunter stepped out into the cold, clearing his nose of the smells of smoke and alcohol associated with the bar. The rain was finally starting to slow down, and the chill in the air bore the promise of a cold winter to come.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a small shape emerging from behind the building. He would have dismissed it as another urchin, but the hooded figure turned towards the bar and he got a good look at her face.

It was the face that had been plastered all over the newspapers these last few months, with a very large bounty attached. God must be blessing his patience; this could be nothing less than a gift from above.

Nico Robin was here.

* * *

The next day Hubert St. Caius found himself at the hospital, trying his hardest to keep from a smug grin. A doctor came out of a room shaking his head, before addressing him.

"Are you responsible for Edwin Couteulx?" asked the harried looking doctor.

"Not anymore, my good man, not any more. May I see him?" he replied.

"Yes. Just try to keep the stress level down. His injuries are very severe."

"Very good. I shouldn't be more than a minute. Have a good day, sir."

St. Caius entered the room to see a very bandaged but cocky Edwin. For some reason the idiot still had his sword by his side, not that he was in any condition to use it. When he saw who came in the room he struggled to sit up before laughing.

"You see old man! That's how it's done. I bagged "The Dreaded", the reward's all mine!" he exclaimed. St. Caius just sat on the little chair offered to guests, ignoring Edwin entirely. After awhile he stood back up and began examining the various health related posters on the wall.

"Did you know, Edwin, this city breeds the hounds used by the World Government's special unit on Enies Lobby? The selective breeding requires patience and a thorough understanding of dogs, and a dedication to properly train them. It's a lot like bounty hunting, really," he said in the same sort of voice he used to chastise his grandchildren.

Edwin did not take the condescending tone well. "Again with the lectures! I am fucking sick and tired of your voice! I  _did it_! I killed the shit, and I got the bounty!  _Nothing_ else matters! And I did it by myself; you were to chicken-shit to show!"

"Yes, yes, you showed him good and well. But how much will these doctors's bills cut into your profit? And the property damage?" St. Caius asked as he examined his nails.

"I ain't got to pay any property damages," Edwin said scornfully.

"Like hell you don't. You'll never see that money, Edwin, and it's all because of your stupidity. Now here are your papers you need to hand over to the nearest marine base for your certification. And as I have some important things to attend to, I hope you don't mind if I say I never want to see your ugly face ever again." Saint Caius leaned threateningly over Edwin's prone body. "If you ever interfere with one of my hunts, and this is a promise, you won't live long enough to regret it. Good day, and congratulations on your first successful bounty."

* * *

Robin was back in her little grove of trees. She was forced to stay on this island another day, because even though the weather had calmed considerably the marines had put the city on lockdown. The bar fight from the night before had been very serious. Rumor was that half a city block had been leveled and more than twenty suspected pirates arrested. This was probably an exaggeration, but Robin wasn't going to risk capture to find out for sure.

So she was stuck.

Robin sighed and doodled characters of the ancient language into the mud with a stick. She desperately wanted something to read, but this place had no public library and she didn't want to steal anything from the bookstore. The ache in her chest, the one that had been present ever since Ohara, was threatening to come back in full force. If she didn't find something to do all the bad memories would start playing in her head over and over again, and it always hurt to push them back down.

Behind her, Robin heard a soft whine. She whipped around, ready to call up on her power to run away, when she saw it was just an elderly hound. It was a pretty dog with long ears and droopy jowls, but had no collar identifying it as someone's pet.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have any food," she said for the second time in as many days. The dog gave a slow wag of his tail and approached her. Robin gave a small smile before going over to give him a scratch. There were no other people in sight, this must be another stray.

Dogs really were much nicer than people.

Then, to Robin's horror, the bloodhound began to change shape.

* * *

St. Caius tracked the girl through the night. With his snout close to the ground he examined the dumpster behind the bar.  _Sandwich, pie, ale, grease, cook, little girl_  his nose identified, along with a myriad of other smells. He stored it all into his memory, knowing he would forever be able to identify little Nico Robin, no matter where she might hide or what disguise she might take.

He knew that there was something fishy about the Ohara incident, everyone with two brain cells to rub together could figure that out. Having worked the Grand Line as well as all four Blues, St. Caius had a good idea of how the world was run, and it wasn't a pretty picture. But according to the law she was guilty. He would do everything in his power to bring her in alive, but she was worth 79,000,000 for a reason.

From the dumpster, her trail split two ways. The rain dampened the smell, but he could tell it was stronger to the west. He took the other, curious as to where the little Oharan had been earlier in the evening. Officers of the Peace rushed the bar as two men were thrown out a window. St. Caius shook his head, now _there_ was a situation that was going to get worse before it got better.

The trail led him to a second-hand shop. He forced his way inside.  _Little girl, clothes, shoes, mud_ , _water,_  nothing terribly suspicious. A picture was beginning to form in his mind of a desperate girl with few resources, a picture that was quite at odds from what the government claimed.

St. Caius went back to the elements. Giving himself a quick shake he found his trail again. This time it took him to a little tree, under which a stray slept. He recognized it as the dog he had seen at the inn, a little black and white mutt that roamed free around the area.

As they gave each other a curiosity sniff, he realized that Nico Robin's scent was on the mutt. Perhaps she had petted him earlier in the day. Did little Nico Robin like dogs? He would soon find out. Curiosity satisfied, St. Caius continued on his journey.

It was late morning when he left the hospital and found her. The little outlaw was playing in the mud of all things. St. Caius approached with caution, but she didn't even realize he was behind her. He put his nose into the air and took a deep breath.

_Little girl, grease, mud, stick, store, bar. Tired, scared, hungry. Little girl. Nico Robin._

No weapons, no strange scent that sometimes accompanied Devil Fruit users. No danger whatsoever. St. Caius had no idea what the government was so afraid of or why she was so wanted. Confident that he knew his prey as well as he needed to make the capture, the bounty hunter gave a soft whine. The girl turned; shoulders tense and eyes open wide. When she saw that it was just a dog, her whole being softened. She came over to give him a scratch.

"I'm sorry, I don't have any food," came the soft voice of the most wanted criminal of the West Blue. Hubert St. Caius felt the faintest pang of guilt as he realized that despite what the government claimed she was nothing more than a child.

And then he began to transform, because child or not, she was his prey.

* * *

Robin backpedaled as the elderly hound turned into an elderly man. There were some similarities between the two, the long ears, fleshy jowls, and the hair color in particular. Her mind screamed at her to run away from the man with the zoan fruit, but with her back to the river there was nowhere to go.

"Dog Dog Fruit Model: Bloodhound," the man said as way of explanation, "Nico Robin, by the power vested in me by the World Government, you are under arrest. You can either come with me peacefully, or I will use force. The choice is yours."

"Tha-that's not much of a choice," Robin retorted with more bravado than she felt. Her eyes darted back and forth looking for possible escape routes.

"I hoped it wouldn't come to this. I dislike harming children. Very well then, remember this is the fate you choose," he said with a sigh before morphing again, this time into a large half-man half-dog monstrosity.

Robin didn't wait for him to attack. She crossed her arms, calling up duplicates from the ground to grab a hold of his ankles, and began running.

"Devil Fruit?" he asked in surprise before changing back into a dog and breaking her grip. Robin winced as one of her false wrists was wrenched painfully, and with her concentration broken the rest poofed out of existence in a dance of petals.

Without breaking stride the dog turned halfway back into a man and gave chase. Robin didn't get far before the bounty hunter tackled her from behind. Mud splashed and Robin panicked. The man easily lifted her, her real arms tightly held to her sides.

Desperate, she called arms from everywhere. They pulled and grabbed, pinched and fought the dog-man that held her. With a yelp he dropped her back onto the ground, where she tried to regain her footing.

Robin turned to face her assailant as he stumbled backwards, struggling against her power. Scratches appeared on her real arms as he clawed and bit at the phantom limbs. Terrified, Robin refused to let go.

Blinded and unaware of his surroundings, the man lost his footing in the mud and fell backwards, cracking his head on a stone as he slipped into the roaring river. It was only then Robin felt her power release, unable to keep holding on in the deep water.

Robin crawled to the place where the dog-man had disappeared. She spotted a stone with a deep red stain that slowly leaked into the surrounding water, and a cold feeling spread throughout her body. Facts about Devil Fruit users and water came unbidden into her mind as she realized the fate of the dog-man. Horrified, Robin pushed herself away from the river.

"What did I just do?" she whispered, voice lost in the howling wind.

* * *

"I know a great deal about you, Nico Robin. I'm on the wanted list too. I'll keep you on as an apprentice and provide you with food and protection," the captain of the Snaggle Tooth Pirates said as he addressed the most wanted person in the West Blue.

Nico Robin said nothing.

"It's good we found each other, Nico. We had a bit of a problem in Canidae, several of my beloved crew members got arrested or killed," he continued.

Nico Robin still said nothing.

"Well, you're dismissed. Don't forget, Nico, I'm not doing this for free. I expect you to pull your weight on this ship. Understand?"

Nico Robin left the room without saying a word.

Unnerved by the child with the cold face of a demon, the captain shook his head and went back to his work.

* * *

Hubert St. Caius's body was found exactly one week later, ruled by the pathologist as an accidental drowning due to the recent rains. Robin knew better, she knew that she had killed him. Should she have let her arms go sooner? Could she have found a different place to hide from the bloodhound? She had no idea, and thinking about it made her feel numb on the inside.

One thing was certain: No place was safe. Nothing could be trusted, and she needed protection. The only place left for Robin was on the bad side of the law, and to turn herself into the monster the world already thought she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the shifting POV was something new I was trying out when I first wrote this almost five years ago. I like the back and forth, but I'll admit the end result here is a little much. If I were to rewrite it from scratch I'd most likely combine several of the sections, and leave others out entirely. Live and learn, I suppose. 
> 
> The names in this chapter, including the island's but exempting Nigeratta's (who is a canon character) are a mishmash of terms and people from Wikipedia's section on bloodhounds and dogs. Lazy, perhaps, but also an interesting read.
> 
> A bounty hunter with a bloodhound Devil Fruit has been one of my secret wishes for the series for a while now. One can hope. One Piece needs a badass bounty hunter (besides Zoro, 'cause he doesn't really count). 
> 
> This fic takes place in chapter 398, all the page where we see Robin 'Dereshi' for the last time. When we see the first pirate talk later in the chapter, Robin certainly looks as if she just killed someone (hence my inspiration for this fic). I make the assumption that the Ohara Incident happened in summer (judging by the leaves on the trees), and that the rain seen on that page is a fall rain, meaning Robin joined her first crew before turning nine (her birthday is in February). I also am making assumptions when I call Robin "the most wanted criminal of the West Blue". Of course, this is my personal head canon, so I could be wrong.


End file.
